
Book '\K% C \ 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL 

IN THE SUMMER OF 1855. 



33/ 



is/ 

By WALTEE WHITE, 



AUTHOR OF 



" Sem ©anger tyetjjt eS S3urg ber Sreue/ 
2Me anbern nennen'S Sanb SEirol." 




LONDON : 
CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193, PICCADILLY. 



[The right of Translation is reserved."} 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

PAGE, 

A Holiday in prospect — Where to go — The Passport — London to 
Harwich — The Gallopper — The Scheldt— Flushing — A Foreign 
Aspect — Land versus Sea — The Forts — Antwerp — Life in the 
Streets— A Difficulty — Malines — The Sunday Question — Wor- 
ship and Revelry — Which to choose — Another Difficulty — A 
Midnight Arrival— AhardBed — The Rhine Steamer — ABrewery 
at Mentz — Talk about the War — Purging the Language — 
Mannheim — Bruchsal — Wiirtemberg Railway Train — Barn-like 
Stations — Rural Life — The Maulbronner See — Stuttgart — The 
old Streets — The Market-place — The Krim and Ssebastopol — 
Luxurious Carriages — The Valley of the Neckar — Ivory Carvers 
— Cheap Refreshments — The Geisslingerthal — Ulm — Sausages 
and Kirscheiikuchen — The Danube — Piles of Firewood — The Ba- 
varian Plain — Transformed Talk — Friedrichshafen .... 1 



CHAPTER II. 

A Trip to Rohrschach— The Sentis — The Vorarlberg Mountains — 
Traffic on the Lake — From Rohrschach to Lindau — A pretty 
Custom-house — Across to Fiissach — The Delta — Bregenz — 
Under the Austrian Eagle's Wing — An Inquisitor — An Escort to. 
the Custom-house — The Gebhardsberg — View from the Summit 
— Life in the Fields — Growth of the Land— A Place for Enjoy- 
ment — Visitors' Names — Civility with a Passport — Begin to 
walk — Black and Yellow : Emblems of Authority — Dornbirn — 
Religious Emblems — Working and Praying— Change of Man- 
ners— Hohenems — Fire! Fire! Fire! — Emulous Fire-engines— 
Jews— Strange Dialect — Gotzis — A Halbe of Beer— Honesty — 
A gay Churchyard— Feldkirch — The Wochenblatt — The Valley 



IV CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

of the 111 — Mischievous Torrent at Frastanz — Nenzing — Thii- 
ringen — The Spinnery and the Spinners — Prices of Provisions — 
A Three Hundred Feet Fall — The Bregenzerwald — The Land- 
mote — How to elect a Governor — Feats of Bravery — The Night- 
folk — Legends — Plainness of Speech 22 

CHAPTER III. 

Bludenz — Duke Friedrich — The Montavonerthal — Migratory Folk 
— A Storm — Schruns — Costume — " You can't stay here" — The 
Village Inn — The Villagers, and what they talked about — The 
Gendarme — Bedroom Furniture — Paper Money — The Kloster- 
thal — Waterfalls — A meagre Breakfast — House-front Inscrip- 
tions — An Innkeeper's Sentiments — The Oratory — Dalaas — 
Stuben — Up the Adlerberg — The Snow — Road-menders — The 
Summit— The Frontier— Enter Tyrol— St. Christof— The Res- 
cuer — Striking Scenery — St. Anton — Kalbsbraten — Friendly Sa- 
lutations — Costume — Going to Church — A Litany — Gladsome 
Feelings — Log-houses — Road-side Pictures — Flirsch — An Organ 
Polka — The Sunday Question settled — Wagons — Fiddles — The 
Rosanna — Castle of Wiesberg — Paznaunerthal — Skulls at Ischgl 
— The Innthal — Cross the Inn — Landeck — Swarms of Flies — 
The Sunday Question again — England's Downfall — The Miracle 
of the Wolf and the Bear— The Ragged Minstrel— The Schro- 
fenstein 49 

CHAPTER IV. 

The Upper Inn Valley — Pious Salute — A Gap in the Road — Me- 
morials of Calamity — Twilight — The Pontlatzer Bridge — A Re- 
miniscence of 1703 — An Ambuscade — The War of Independence 
— A National Football — Scandalous Usage — The Cow-heads — 
An Insurrection — Ways and Means — Preparations for the Enemy 
— " 'Tis time" — The Outbreak — Capture of Innsbruck — En- 
thusiastic Triumph of the Peasants — Restoration of Plunder — 
The Enemy again— New Efforts— Another Triumph — The Fatal 
Pass — A Detachment made Prisoners — Prutz — Ried — Sunday 
Evening Guests — Tosens — Work and Wages— Price of Land — 
"What shall I do with the Sheep ?"— Pfunds— Leisurely Tra- 
velling — A New Road — The Lofty Arch — Pass of Finstermunz 
— Grand Scenery — A Torrent of Stones — The Fortress — Nauders 
— A Cabinet-maker — The Blind Sculptor — Naudersburg — The 
Snowy Summits — Ober Vintschgau — Source of the Etsch — 
Many Crucifixes — A Crown of Thorns — A Friar — The Yellow 
Wirthshaus — A Tramping Tailor — Prayer before Supper — The 
Ortler Spitz 73 



CONTENTS. V 

CHAPTER V. 

PAGE 

The severe Winter — Terrible Consequences — The Road swept away 
— The Flood — The Flowery Heath — Burgeis — Havoc in the 
Village — A horrid Gap — Busy Villagers — Loss and Suffering — 
Five Bridges carried away — Succours — Mais — A symbolical 
Fountain — The Virgin and seven Daggers — The Kitchen — 
Things in the Churchyard — View from the Hill — Helf-mir-Gott 
— A Murderous Battle — Glurns — Remains of the Flood — Lich- 
tenberg — The cheapest Land — An Avalanche of Mud — Meadows 
overwhelmed — Agums — Industrious Peasants — Brad — The 
great Eoad of the Stelvio — A furious Stream — Gaps in the Road 
— Sullen Scenery — Stilfs — Gendarmes — Gomagoi — Landslips — 
Zigzags— Madatsch Spitz — Trafoi — The Two Officers — The 
World's End— Sociability 97 

CHAPTER VI. 

An early Start — A bright Landscape — More Zigzags — Savage 
Scenery — Views across the Snow — The Glaciers — Fearful Chasm 
— Franzenshohe — WildProspect — The Refuge — ARuin — Steeper 
Cut-offs — A Hailstorm — Shelter under the Gallery — Fall of 
Stones — The Two Gendarmes — Their suspicious Inquisition — 
A Debate — " You must go back !" — A surly Specimen — The 
Englishman conquers — The Road-menders' Fire — The Polenta 
Kettle — Bone and Muscle without Meat — More Zigzags — Cost of 
the Road — The last Gallery — The Summit — Waste of Snow — 
The Ortler Spitz — The Descent — A Squall — Santa Maria — Enter 
Lombardy — Lake of Brauglio — Grim Scenery — A Tale of Terror 
— The Chief of the Gang — The Wiirmser-loch — Spondalunga — 
Gloomy Vaults — Fir-trees again — Fairyland — Baths of Bormio 
— Pleasant Valleys — Bormio — Its Waterspouts — A dirty Inn — 
The Mystery explained 115 

CHAPTER VII. 

The Val Furva — Hotel Charges — A Letter to the Hostess — San 
Nicolo — San Antonio — Dirt, Devotion, and Saw-mills — The 
Frodolfo — Santa Caterina — The Hotel Kitchen — Bargain with 
the Guide — A Chat with the Cook — The Mineral Spring, Val 
Forno— Start for the Gavia Pass— Talk by the Way— Pic Alto 
— Giacomo's Jodeln — The Shepherd's Hut — A wild Ascent — 
Stopped by a Snow-ridge — Doubling the Crag — Creep through 
a Crevice — A Glacier — A dreary Glen — Ponta di Preda — Sub- 
limity of Sullenness — Difficult Walking — Playing a Trick — 
Corno dei Tre Signori— The White Lake— The Summit— The 






VI CONTENTS. 



PAGK 

Black Lake— The Oglio— Halt by a holy Fountain— Effect of 
Alcohol — Hovels and their Inmates — Lake Silissi — Pezzo — 
Eicketty Houses — " Nosiro Giacomo!" — Hospitable Demonstra- 
tion — Ponta di Legno — Meagre Fare — A Scene at Bedtime . . 135* 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Village Life at early Morn — Giacomo's Farewell — A Mason Hay- 
maker — Among the Fir-trees — St. Bartholomew's Chapel — The 
Tonale— Re-enter Tyrol— A Forest Walk— A Timber Fall— Val 
Vermiglio — Vermigliano — Wine and Eggs — More Honesty — 
Female Curiosity — A lazy Lover — Romps with the Baby — 
Paper-money again — Picturesque Scenery — Osanna — Pellizzano 
— Traders' Signs — Mezzano — Piano — Male — The Piazza — Civic 
Recreations — The Velocifero — Architecture — Caldes — The Nos 
— Cles — Time to Breakfast — Silk-mills — Street Life — Good 
Books — Bad Cutlery — Bare Mulberry-trees — Mezzo Lombardo 
— Time to dine — Factory Girls — Rabbi Water — Lavis — Gradolo 
— Trent — Aspect of the City — Hungarian Troops — The Church 
of the Council — The Cathedral Square — Priests and Priestlings 
—The Concordat— Marketing— The Cafe— The Minstrel— A Bit 
of Politics — Pergine — Lake Caldonazzo — Calzeranica — Devour- 
ing Heat — Vigolo — Card-players — Sunday on the Boulevard — 
A transmuted Name 151 

CHAPTER IX. 

Parisian Enterprise — Departure from Trent — Salurn — A Friar's 
Payment — Etschland — Leave the High-road — The Hill-side — 
A Thunderstorm — The Kalterner See — Kaltern — The Rittmeister 
— Arrest of an Emissary — About English Troops — Austria and 
England — Georgey — Hungary and Lombardy — The Palmer- 
stonian Target — The Ficar of VaJcefield — The Doctor's English — 
Giving a Lesson — A Cup of Tea — A late and early Pupil — His 
Opinions — A Savour of Scandal — The Extatica, Maria von Mori 
— The Major's Jokes — Ride to Terlan — A Rabble Parliament — 
Politics again — Kossuth and Mazzini — Cost of the Army — A 
wide-awake Country — Meran — Scraps of History — Schloss 
Tyrol — Magnificent View — RifBan — A lost Track — Saltaus — 
Labourers at Supper — The Evening Prayer 17£ 

CHAPTER X. 

The Passeyr — Classic Ground — A Talk with Reapers — Tyrolese 
and English Labourers— St. Martin — Hofer's Birthplace— A 



CONTENTS. Vll 

PAGE 

Dinner on the Balcony — Am Sand — Something about Hofer — 
He becomes Leader of the Passeyrers — His Dress — Triumphal 
Entry into Innsbruck — The Obercommandant's Speech — His Po- 
licy — His Economy — His simple Faith— National Incredulity — 
Dangers and Embarrassments — The last Proclamation — The 
Search for Hofer — The traitor Priest and Peasant — The Patriot's 
Hiding-place — An unwelcome Visitor — A Surprise — Made Pri- 
soner — French Eejoicings — An Escort to Mantua — Sentence of 
Death — The Execution — An Imperial Murder — A Corpse enno- 
bled — Final Entry into Innsbruck — Entombed among the "Wor- 
thiest 199 

CHAPTER XI. 

The Strangers' Book — Relics of Hofer — More Honesty — Jauffen- 
burg — TheOetzthal Glaciers — Up the Jauffen — A sturdy "Woman 
— "What she wanted to know — The last Stare — The Mountain 
Path — The sham Doctor — A Climb — The Summit — AWirthshaus 
— Fir-woods — Sterzing — Cheap Entertainment — The Brenner 
Road — A Retrospect — The Ambuscade — Destruction of the 
Saxons— A Surrender— The " Saxon Cleft"— The Duke dis- 
covers his Mistake — The Kapuziner, Joachim Haspinger — His 
Life and Exploits — " The Bothbart is up" — The Patriarch at 
Salzburg — Tyrolese Heroes — Speckbacher and his little Son . 216 

CHAPTER XII. 

The Miners' Architecture — On the Highway — The Eisack — Gos- 
sensass — "Wildbad — Summit of the Brenner — Life at the Post — 
Source of the Eisack — Gries — Gigantic Crucifix — Steinach — A 
Burning Out — The "Wippthal — Matrey — Schonberg — Old- 
fashioned Wirihshaus — Beautiful "View — Stubayerthal — Berg 
Isel — Striking Prospect — Innsbruck — The Innthal — The Abbey 
of "Wiltau — The Oesterreichischer Hof — City Scenes — Fantastic 
Gables — The Imperial Church — Heroes in Bronze — Maximi- 
lian's Tomb— The Silver Chapel— Hofer's Tomb— The Ferdi- 
nandeum— The Public "Walk— The River— Nightfall— Schloss 
Ambras — Giant Haymo — The "Weierberg — Market-day — The 
Passport Clerk — Leave Innsbruck — Martinswand — Zirl — Raft 
JBuilder — Sausage Eaters — Obermiemingen — Obsteig — A poor 
Parish — Queen and Emperor — English same as German — Up the 
Marienberg — Last View of the Innthal — The Summit — The 
Griinstein — Inn and Isar — Eagles' Nests — Bieberwier — Leer- 
moos — Sunday Rifle Practice — Heiterwang — Schloss Ehrenberg 
— Reute— A Swoon 230 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

PAGE 
An interesting Environment — A Half-pay Officer — Talk by the 
Way — A Harvest of Legends — The White House — From Black 
and Yellow to Blue and White — The Lech Fall — A Saint's Leap 
— Fussen — A Bavarian Dinner — Trip to Schwangau — The Alpen 
Rose — The Gardens — The Palace — Artistic Beauties — Armour 
— Paintings — Sculpture — The Knight of the Swan — Recollec- 
tions of the East — The Hohenstaufen Hall — Lodging of the 
King, Queen, and Princes — View from the Roof — The Saiiling 
— The Fountains — The gorgeous Bath — The Refreshment-room 
—A Wedding Party— The Kloster— The Miraculous Staff— The 
Town and its Traders — Off for Kempten — Bad Roads — A Mid- 
night Ride — The Waiting-room — Immenstadt — A Soldier's 
Dressing-room — Lindau — The Lake again — Constance — View 
from the Minster Tower — Burning-place of Huss and Jerome — 
A Treacherous Emperor — Sylvan Landing-place — Down the 
Rhine — Stein — A Canary Merchant — Slow Diligence — Axle on 
Fire— The soiled Dress— Schaffhausen— The Rhine Fall . . . 260 

CHAPTER XIV. 

A gloomy Morning — Swiss Agriculture — A Protestant Church — 
From the Canton to the Duchy — The Earthquake — Stuhlingen — 
Grand-Ducal Eilwagen — Name again transmuted — The Ticket — 
The Black Forest — A shivering Hanoverian — Mist and Rain — r 
Bonndorf — A Wet Fair-day — Embroidered Head-dress — Migra- 
tory Foresters — Clockmakers — Forest Scenes — Lenzkirch — A 
Talk in the Post-house — A Walk through the Forest — Miles of 
Firs — Titi See — Hollensteig — Hollenthal — Magnificent Defile 
— Moreau's Retreat— Stone-breakers — The Brook — The Vosges 
— Freiburg — The Minster and Schlossberg — The Prefect's Notice 
—To Carlsruhe— The Palace— The Gardens— The Market— A 
lazy Functionary — Waiting for an Autograph — Appenweier — 
Kehl — Strasburg — The Cathedral — View from the Tower — A 
Lesson in the Air — About the City — Mixture of French and 
German: Ancient and Modern — Moonlight and Music — Lut- 
zelbourg— Nancy — Paris — Re-cross the Channel 284 



Index 313 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 



CHAPTER I. 

A Holiday in prospect — Where to go — The Passport — London to Har- 
wich — The Gallopper — The Scheldt — Flushing — A Foreign Aspect — 
Land versus Sea — The Forts — Antwerp — Life in the Streets — A Diffi- 
culty — Malines — The Sunday Question — Worship and Revelry — 
Which to choose — Another Difficulty — A Midnight Arrival — A hard 
Bed — The Bhine Steamer — A Brewery at Mentz — Talk about the 
War — Purging the Language— Mannheim — Bruchsal — Wurtemberg 
Bailway Train — Barn-like Stations — Bural Life — The Maulbronner 
See— Stuttgart— The old Streets— The Market-place— The Krim and 
Ssebastopol — Luxurious Carriages — The Valley of the Xeckar — Ivory 
Carvers — Cheap Refreshments— The Geisslingerthal — Ulm — Sausages 
and KirscJienkuchen — The Danube — Piles of Firewood — The Bavarian 
Plain — Transformed Talk — Friedrichshafen. 

As July came round once more, I felt the anticipa- 
tion of a holiday among the mountains growing into a 
lively pleasure ; making me impatient to be on the 
way — master of my time, and free to roam. I inclined 
for a wandering in the Alpine country between the 
Ortler Spitz and the Gross Glockner, where the pro- 
mise of grand scenery appeared the more inviting, 
accompanied by the hope of an acquaintance, however 

B 



2 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

slight, with a remarkable peasantry. To see them in 
their native valleys, to note their ways of living, and 
compare their condition and character with what I 
knew of the similar class in other countries, might con- 
tribute to the interest of my ramble. Moreover, in the 
heart of the Continent there is much to be seen that 
sets actually before our eyes the olden time of Eng- 
land, such as we read of in the pages of historians and 
story-tellers. So I made up my mind for Tyrol. 

The difference between home and foreign travel is 
felt in the very earliest preparations. In the one case 
you pack your knapsack or carpet-bag, and depart un- 
questioned to any quarter of the compass, caring for no 
man ; in the other there is that indispensable instru- 
ment, the passport, to be provided, suggesting visions of 
interrogatories, delays, and vexations ; some of which, 
as will be seen hereafter, I had to experience. And 
only on this account have I ventured to repeat what is 
so obvious a truism. 

The Austrian Minister keeps you waiting half an 
hour for his signature ; the Bavarian Minister not more 
than ten minutes. No objection was taken to my 
Foreign Office passport being already two years old, 
nor was any charge made. The Belgian Consul in- 
sisted that no one could land in his country without his 
sixteenpenny visa, the authorities having become ex- 
cessively rigorous since the breaking out of the war ; 
and the Baden Consul was yet more positive as to 
what unwarranted travellers had to expect on the 
Grand Duke's frontiers, perhaps influenced by the 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYEOL. 3 

prospect of a half- crown fee. And yet I saw pas- 
sengers land in Belgium without a visa ; while in 
Baden your passport is never asked for. 

To vary my experiences I took the route by Harwich 
and Antwerp, and paid 21. Os. 8d. for a " second-class 
and saloon" ticket through to Cologne, although the 
thought of riding the first stage in one of the low, 
uncomfortable, dungeon-like Eastern Counties Railway 
carriages was by no means alluring. We left London 
at half-past eight in the evening ; arrived at Harwich at 
midnight; went immediately on board the Cygnus, and 
steamed out of the harbour. It was a glorious moon- 
light night, and the change from the dingy carriage to 
the broad, heaving expanse of sea, flashing and gleaming 
away into infinite distance, was a joyful surprise. The 
vessel was worthy of her name, and soon we saw the 
coast lights twinkling wide apart, and when I left the 
deck, after an hour's pacing up and down, we were well 
advanced towards the Gallopper. 

At six the next morning the coast of Holland was 
visible, and the tall church tower of Ostend rising far 
away on the right. Then we passed the second buoy of 
the Scheldt, from which to the Gallopper light on the 
English side is sixty miles, and this distance is what 
some companies advertize as " five hours' sea passage," 
pleasantly ignoring the troubled waters on either side, 
which are so much like the sea that some unhappy 
voyagers cannot tell the difference. The whole dis- 
tance from Harwich to Antwerp is one hundred and 
sixty-eight miles, of which sixty are in the Scheldt, 

b2 



4 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

whereby passengers have time to recover from their 
uneasiness and the dejected look that accompanies it. 

The dark, uneven line of the shore grows more dis- 
tinct, resting on a level base of sand. Broad, pale 
slopes come into view, and here and there the whirling 
arms of a windmill, all the rest hidden by the embank- 
ments that keep out the sea. Now we pass the Paarde 
light-ship, from whence the mouth of the river is seen, 
ten miles wide, crowded with shoals, as indicated by the 
numerous buoys. In the distance, towards the west, 
we get a glimpse of the towers of Bruges, and in the 
opposite direction Middelburg steeple shoots up from 
the island of Walcheren, and ere long we stop for a 
few minutes off Flushing to take on board a river pilot. 
The brief delay gives us time to look at the timbered 
jetties, the entrance to the docks, the gables peeping 
above the walls, the fortifications of earth and brick, 
the conspicuous church- tower, all appearing very life- 
less, and hardly worth the trouble we took some five- 
and-forty years ago to batter them to pieces. Quiet 
enough now. Then, while breakfast was served, we 
sped onwards between Walcheren and Cadsandj and 
South Beveland and Axel ; and when we came on deck 
again we saw the banks greener, and here the tops of 
trees and a spire visible beyond them, and a few 
scattered masts in places at a distance from the river, 
where you would hardly think of looking for them, 
springing from unseen fishing-boats afloat in the creeks. 
The foreign aspect becomes more and more strongly 
marked, exciting lively attention ; and yet it is remark- 



01s FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 5 

able how soon you come to look on novel objects as 
things familiar. First impressions are quite lost if 
memory alone be trusted to for their preservation. 

Then rows of stakes across the river, and numerous 
sand-banks, and strong lines of ripple, showing where 
others lurk beneath the surface, and buoys dancing 
uneasily in the rapid current. And wooded mounds 
showing their rounded summits along the shore, chil- 
dren playing, and parties of men and women strolling 
or sitting on the grass, watching the steamer that, with 
the English flag flying, urges her rapid way against the 
stream, under the bright sunshine. You might wonder 
where they live, but for the peaked gables and the 
chimneys that peep up here and there beyond the banks. 
And horses and cattle are grazing, or standing up to 
their knees in the water; and the peace and calm are 
undisturbed save by the beat of the paddles. 

Presently, on our left, its tricolor fluttering in the 
breeze, appears the strong fort of Bathz, at the entrance 
of the channel that leads past Bergen-op-Zoom to Rot- 
terdam. This channel is so shallow at low water that 
it can be waded across, and attempts are being made to 
reclaim large portions of the shore for cultivation. 
Already the dykes built out from South Beveland keep 
back the tide from considerable tracts. Opposite, 
stretches a broad expanse, seamed with shallows, known 
as the Drowned Land. Next we come to the Belgian 
frontier, marked by Fort Lillo on one side and Fort 
Liefkenshoek on the other ; and after rounding a sandy 
spit, the spire of Antwerp Cathedral is seen beyond the 



6 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

low green levels, seeming to shift its position as the 
vessel follows the windings of the river. Then, at in- 
tervals, three forts, in ruins ; barges and river-boats 
frequent ; and the distant city emerging more and more 
from the surrounding flats; and many detached houses, 
suburban villas, plantations, and gardens. A little 
farther and there is Fort du Nord ; the straggling out- 
skirts of a great town, and the long line of wharves 
crowded with shipping; throngs of people walking on 
the quays, while a tuneful carillon proclaims the hour 
of noon from all the churches. The Scheldt here is 
twelve hundred feet wide. Our vessel made a bold 
sweep, almost touching the Tete de Flandre, on the 
opposite shore, and brought up at the landing-place. 

During this manoeuvre we got a view up the higher 
reach of the river, where, among the trees, a custom- 
house officer pointed out to me the situation of the 
citadel, in which old General Chasse with his Dutch 
troops once showed himself as stubborn as his case- 
mates ; in that eventful year when France, having 
achieved her own three days, helped to drive the Hol- 
lander out of Belgium. 

Every one was ordered to the cabin for the inspection 
of passports. The names were taken down, and those 
who had no visa, or who had an old one, were permitted 
to land equally with those who exhibited one fresh from 
the Consulate in Adelaide Chambers. The baggage was 
promptly inspected, and then we were free to go on 
shore. There was much more of a French aspect than 
I had expected to see in the old Flemish city — cheerful 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 7 

almost to gaiety. Numbers of well-dressed people were 
walking through the picturesque streets, the women in 
lively colours that heightened the animation; some 
with rich lace caps or collars, recalling the olden time. 
Flemish names are over the doors ; the handbills and 
municipal proclamations on the walls are Flemish, with 
rare exceptions ; and if you ask the way of a working- 
man, the answer will be in the same language. I walked 
hither and thither, looked at the cathedral; dined, and 
then being desirous to get to Cologne in time for the 
next morning's steamer up the Rhine, betook myself to 
the railway station. 

Here I must give a few particulars which would be 
better omitted were it not that they may serve as a 
caution to other travellers. While buying my " through 
ticket" in London, I had diligently inquired as to the 
possibility of getting from Antwerp to Cologne by 
second-class on the day of arrival, and was assured of a 
train starting at half-past two. True enough, there was 
the train, but all first-class, and when I showed my 
ticket, and repeated the assurances made to me by 
authority in London, the answer was that I might pay 
ninety centimes, and go on to Marines and wait there 
till half-past five for a second-class train to Cologne. I 
adopted the alternative ; and having two hours to spare 
on arrival at Malines, I strolled away to the town to see 
how the people were passing the Sunday. 

The Sunday question was just then an animated one 
in England, and with the effect of showing that much 
may be said on both sides of it. But whatever the 



8 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

arguments in favour of trie Continental mode of passing 
the Sunday over our own, the sight of Malines as I saw 
it on that afternoon would perhaps have moderated the 
advocates of jocund recreations. The streets were alive 
with music and merriment ; girls in flaming skirts and 
on tall stilts danced to the sound of drum, triangle, and 
Pan's pipes ; wandering minstrels chanted melodious 
ditties in no timid voice ; and fiddlers kept up a furious 
round of their liveliest airs. And so the sports went on 
between the picturesque old houses stretching away in 
charming variety to the Grande Place, where all the 
din and hurly-burly of a fair burst upon me. Long 
ranges of stalls of fruit, cakes, eggs, salad, toys, and 
cooling drinks divided the attention of the crowd with 
target-shooting, twirl-about for gingerbread, swings, and 
shows, all in the very noisiest of excitement. The beating 
of gongs, thumping of drums, and volleys of r-r-r-r-r-r's 
from vociferating mountebanks, were almost deafening. 
One of the shows had the four sovereigns — England, 
France, Austria, and Russia — made of wax and large as 
life, to be seen for two sous. They were represented in 
a highly florid style on a large painting over the stage, 
with the Virgin in their midst ; our queen as ruddy and 
sturdy as a Welsh milkmaid, muffled in silken drapery. 
That sort of art does not appear to be more advanced 
among the Flemings than among ourselves. 

The cathedral stands at one side of the Place. I 
went in. Service was going on, sonorous chantings and 
mighty rolls of harmony from the organ, but strangely 
disturbed by the noise of feet clattering in the whirl of 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 9 

the roundabout not twenty yards from the door, and the 
uproar from the fair. Revelry and worship were but a 
step apart. And then coming forth into the noise again, 
I thought it would be long before English folk would 
consider such excitement the best recreation after the 
labours of the week. Our Christianity, truly, or that 
which passes for it, is not remarkable for cheerfulness ; 
yet few who have thought on the subject would be 
willing to lose the privilege of one day in seven for re- 
flection. On the other hand, if a choice must be made 
between what may be seen any Sunday in Lambeth or 
Whitechapel, in similar quarters of our large towns, 
especially in Glasgow, and the Continental mode, I 
should raise my voice for that of Malines. I saw no 
coarseness and no drunkenness, notwithstanding that 
rows of tables stood at the door of every tavern, round 
which men and women sat drinking wine, beer, and 
lemonade. 

But to the journey. I sought the station-master, and 
inquired why the terms published in London to the 
effect that passengers purchasing through-tickets could 
proceed without delay, were not recognized in Belgium? 
His answer was, " No arrangement has been made for 
second-class passengers ; the companies on your side 
know it ; but they ship travellers over knowing they 
will have to shift for themselves." Mine was not a 
solitary case; he had complaints innumerable precisely 
similar. 

I asked, " Can second-class passengers get from Ant- 
werp or Ostend to Cologne within the day ?" 



10 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

a No ; the train you are waiting for goes no farther 
than Aix-la-Chapelle." 

My hopes for the next day were suddenly dashed ; 
but there was no help for it, except, as the station- 
master remarked, I chose to go on by a train that 
reached Aix about three in the morning. 

The train from Ostend came up ; I took my place, 
and found the compartment nearly filled with English- 
men, who were complaining as only Englishmen can, 
about having been victimized. To have first-class pas- 
sengers monopolizing all the consideration in England 
was bad enough ; but to find the same thing after cross- 
ing the Channel was atrocious. Let others take warn- 
ing by our fate. 

It was near midnight when we arrived at Aix. I 
lay down on a bench in the waiting-room till the early 
train came at three o'clock. Again nothing but first- 
class ; however, to save myself from further vexation, I 
paid the difference of fare and went on. The approach 
of dawn, the gradual spread of gold in the east, the 
lighting up of the marbled sky, brighter and brighter 
till the sun himself uprose, the cool fresh breeze, and the 
sight of the awakening earth, soon charmed away un- 
pleasant reminiscences. The clocks had j ust struck five 
as we reached Cologne; there was opportunity for a 
quiet walk through the still slumbering city, and I was 
on board the Hohenzollern in time for her start at six. 

Among the many English who thronged the deck 
some were sociable enough ; others manifested what 
Teufelsdrockh's biographer calls "that talent of si- 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 11 

lence." On we sped, the weather keeping its early 
promise till we got to Bacharach, when the clouds and 
thunder that had been lowering and grumbling among 
the distant hills, broke heavily over us, and showers fell 
during the remainder of the trip. I took possession oi 
a recess on the fore-deck, from whence I could still see 
the swift river and its curving shores, and the slopes of 
vines through alternate mists and glooms, without get- 
ting wet. I noticed that three languages were used in 
the management of the vessel. As we approached a 
landing-place, " Langsam !" cried the captain, from the 
paddle-box ; then came " Scktop ! " our English stop 
Germanized ; and last, "Allons /" from the French, for 
Go ahead I 

Shortly before six we landed at Mentz. There was 
an hour to wait for a train to Ludwigshafen. After a 
glance at some of the streets, a hardware merchant from 
Iserlohn, travelling on his annual quest for money and 
orders, invited me to accompany him to a brewery for 
a glass of beer. He had been so gratified by his expe- 
riences in London during his visit to the Great Exhibi- 
tion, that he could not help being civil to an English- 
man. "Always go to a brewery," he said, "if you 
want beer fresh and cool." We entered a large dimly- 
lighted room, furnished with a double row of common 
pine tables and benches, at which sat a dozen men with 
the tall, straight glasses before them ; and in one corner 
a small space partitioned off formed the bar. A heavy, 
clumsy cask, stood on end on the counter, from which, 
as we took our seats, the girl, without waiting for orders, 



12 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

drew two glasses of beer, and placed them foaming 
before us, with two small loaves : and while we drank, 
my entertainer talked about the war. It was, he said, 
everywhere the great topic of conversation; the sum- 
mary of English news was the first thing looked at 
in the papers, and with wishes for the success of the 
allies. There was more sympathy for us among the 
Prussian people than we in England gave them credit 
for. It would become apparent some day. The 
popular outbreak in 1848 had on the whole borne good 
fruit. Though suppressed for a time, it had made many 
think of constitutionalism as a possible reality. But it 
had brought many disasters, and had given rise to ex- 
traordinary manifestations of patriotism. Among these 
was the resolve, that the language, not to be less pa- 
triotic than the people, should be purged of foreign 
words that had been adopted, and native terms sub- 
stituted. Some of the substitutions were simply ludi- 
crous; a few judicious, of which, as an example, Schrift- 
fiihrer was to replace the hybrid term Sekretar, secretary. 
But habit proved stronger than patriotism, and the 
foreign words, chiefly French, remain in use. 

The fares from Mentz to Ludwigshafen, forty-one 
miles, are very moderate : third-class, two shillings, and 
first-class not more than five shillings. The merchant 
being like-minded with myself, we chose the cheapest. 
We arrived about half-past nine; walked across the 
bridge of boats to Mannheim, and slept at the Rheinthal 
hotel. Frequent were the complaints (so said the 
landlord) at the other hotels, of a certain noisome insect 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 13 

which had infested the beds within the past four or 
five years, but had not yet reached his house. No one 
had ever heard of them till railways and steamboats so 
greatly multiplied the throng of travellers. 

From Mannheim to the Lake of Constance was my 
plan for the next day's journey. I took a third-class 
ticket for Stuttgart, and quitting the Basel train at 
Bruchsal for the Wiirtemberg line, was at once struck 
with the superiority of the Wiirtemberg carriages. 
They are constructed after the American manner: fold- 
ing-doors at each end, a passage-way along the centre, 
and are high enough to permit of walking about with- 
out inconvenience. The windows are of glass, not wood, 
as is too much the case in this dear old England of ours, 
where with highest fares we have the shabbiest accom- 
modation. The passengers not being numerous, we 
gathered into little groups, looking out now on this 
side, now on that, or at the open doors at the end, 
chatting with the conductor. After Bruchsal the land- 
scape was all new to me, and I was surprised by its 
cheerful aspect. With few exceptions the stations are 
built of pine, left unpainted, which gives them a barn- 
like appearance, and the platforms are paved with small 
pine blocks. Easy to see that wood is cheap, i^nd in 
some places there are piles of firewood built up like a 
wall for hundreds of yards by the side of the line * fuel 
for the locomotives and the towns on the railway. 

The route lay up a pleasant valley, where the red 
roofs of frequent villages clustering round the church 
tower, nestled amons; the trees. The little fields and 



14 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

meadows, the haymakers at work, the women with 
their hair hanging down in two long plaits, the strips 
of linen laid out to bleach, give you a pleasing view of 
the homely German rural life in a Protestant district, 
every minute changing as the single line of rails curves 
along between the low green hills, where beds of pop- 
pies are frequent among the fields of beetroot, or the 
slopes of a cutting planted with acacias. On our left 
we saw the Maulbronner See, on the shores of which, 
as one of the passengers told me, a pack of wild dogs 
are kept. Then we crossed the valley of the Elsenz, 
and passing Bietigheim saw the viaduct of many arches 
along which runs the branch to Heilbronn. Now the 
valley of the Neckar opens, and ere long the high hill 
of Hohenasperg is seen on the right, and the old state 
prison on the top. Then Ludwigsberg, crowned by its 
castle, one of the royal residences, looking down on a 
landscape more hilly and woody than that we have 
travelled over. From hence, should you incline for a 
brief pilgrimage, an hour's walk will bring you to the 
birthplace of Germany's greatest poet — the village of 
Marbach, where Schiller was born. A few miles far- 
ther, and all on a sudden we saw Stuttgart lying in the 
hollow beneath, the new quarter gleaming white in the 
sunshine, while the conical-roofed round towers of the 
old palace peering above the rest, and rows of bright 
green acacias, showed in agreeable relief to the dark, 
irregular mass of the old town. Beyond, on a height 
springing from the Neckar, stands the royal summer 
residence of Rosenstein. 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 15 

We had more than two hours to wait for the train to 
Ulm. I plunged at once into the narrow, crooked 
streets of the old quarter, sauntering from one to the 
other, now. threading an alley, now traversing a clois- 
tered court, and finding in the various features of the 
shops and houses much that makes a stroll through a 
foreign town so interesting — saving always the perpen- 
dicular drains, which, descending down the front of the 
houses, discharge the drainage of every flat into the 
street, with odours too offensive for any but native 
nostrils. The view of the market-place surrounded by 
antique fronts, with the perspective of the streets 
branching off in different directions, is particularly 
striking; and taking a turn among the numerous stalls 
that occupy the area, you will see, besides bread, vege- 
tables, and fruit, a display of coarse, common crockery, 
heaps of nails, trays of small hardware, brooms and 
brushes, and cast-off garments. There is something in 
the form and workmanship of most of the articles that 
gives them an old-world look, quite in harmony with 
their environment. What enormous tuns stand round 
the gateway of the brewery ! and the iron bars that pro- 
tect many of the windows spring forward in curving lines 
as if to form a balcony. But though antiquated, the place 
is not lifeless, the signs of business and activity being- 
such as befit a metropolis. In the printsellers' windows 
maps and engravings of the " Krim " and of " Ssebas- 
topol" were numerous as in London print-shops, and 
detained many a passer-by. I bought a travelling map 
of Tyrol, one of those published by Mey and Widmayer, 



16 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

of Munich, which are scarcely inferior to Keller's map 
of Switzerland, and cost but three florins. Then re- 
turning to the new quarter, you may cross the qua- 
drangle of the old palace, and saunter along the acacia 
avenues, or up the Konigsstrasse, the principal street, 
stopping by the way to look at Dannecker's bronze 
statue of Schiller. And on either side, the hills hung 
with vines, rise high enough to look down into the city, 
and form a verdurous background, visible from almost 
every street. I had not time for even a glance at the 
royal gardens, which extend for two miles along the 
bank of the river. 

Off again at four for Ulm. A second-class train, but 
the fare still very moderate — two florins twenty-four 
kreutzers — four shillings — for fifty-three miles, and the 
carriages as tastefully and comfortably fitted as maho- 
gany, paint, and soft cushions could make them. And 
the elegance of the first-class carriages was something to 
wonder at. Each compartment contained handsome 
velvet-covered couches, with polished mahogany tables 
between. Who is there in Wurtemberg to pay for 
such luxurious travelling ? * 

Passing Kannstadt, away we go up the valley of the 
Neckar, at times close to the river, and under the vine- 
yards that produce the favourite wine known by the 
name of the stream. For some miles the scene was 
one of glad abundance — pastures, fields, gardens, and 
orchards, leafy woods, and numerous villages, and at 
times a long narrow raft shooting down the river, re- 
minding you of the pine-forests far away in the hills. 



ON FOOT THKOUGH TYROL. 17 

u There's enough this year for everybody," said an old 
farmer who sat by my side. And to complete the 
picture, there are famous edifices and sites of especial 
interest on the neighbouring hills, among which Hohen- 
staufenberg will attract your attention. 

Beyond Gingen the railway makes a bold sweep from 
one side of the valley to the other, giving you a fine 
panoramic view as the train follows the curve on the 
hill-side : you look down the valley for miles. At 
Geisslingen the scenery grows romantic. The village 
stands at the foot of the Rauhe Alp, in the entrance of 
a gorge, where rock, wood, and water combine to charm 
the eye. Here, as soon as the train stopped, a troop of 
women came up with trays of ivory toys and knick- 
knacks for the work-table. How assiduously they 
called our attention to the pretty carvings, or to the 
various uses in which the articles might be employed ! 
and failing to find purchasers for the most expensive, 
they gradually came down to " Nur ein Kleinigkeit" — 
only a trifle. One venerable dame, a very model of 
good temper, was a striking specimen of what Mrs. 
Beecher Stowe calls the beauty of old age. And 
besides the ivories there were circular stands with 
foaming glasses of freshly-drawn beer, baskets of cakes 
and fruit, borne by nimble lasses, who gladly give you 
the opportunity of refreshment without the trouble of 
alighting, and cheaply too. For two or three kreutzers 
you get a cool draught of a light and pleasant beer 
which never vexes your head. A similar practice pre- 
vails on all the railway lines in Germany. 

C 



18 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

On runs the line up the Geisslingerthal, a narrow 
valley, the beauty of which fully rewards the expecta- 
tions you had formed at its entrance. Gray cliffs and 
piles of rock burst through the dense foliage of the 
lower slopes, and above the dark pines stretch away to 
the summit. The Fils, here a mere brook, zigzags 
fretfully along the bottom between little wedges of 
sward, and cottages here and there, each with its patch 
of garden. All the passengers stood up in admiration at 
the sight, and then more than ever we appreciated the 
benefit of the numerous windows of the carriage. As 
we went on, the valley became narrow and steep as a 
glen, and an extra engine was linked on to drag us up 
the ascent. The line runs along a shelf excavated from 
the cliff, for all the rest of the available space is 
occupied by the old highway, and side by side the two 
roads rise out of the valley. Now you understand why 
a notice posted up in the carriage cautions passengers 
against putting their heads out : the shattered walls of 
the cliff are not more than a few inches from the train. 
Soon after reaching the summit level we saw sloping 
earthworks, bastions and batteries, sentries pacing to 
and fro, and groups of soldiers : we dashed through 
narrow ways between high stone walls, and Ulm, with 
its old square cathedral tower, lay before us. 

Here we changed to a third-class train going on to 
Friedrichshafen. The refreshment-room was thronged 
with people drinking beer and eating sausages and 
Kirschenkuchen — cherry cake : a mixture which may, 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 19 

perhaps adapt itself to a Bavarian stomach. It was 
near seven when we went on again, skirting the town, 
getting another view of the cathedral, which is being 
restored, as a church devoted to Protestant worship 
ever since the days of Luther ought to be. The aspect 
of the place belongs rather to the past than to the 
present. And for a few minutes we saw the broad 
stream of the Danube on our left, with barges moored 
at the wharves, or lazily floating ; boys bathing, and men 
rowing with pipes in their mouths. A few minutes more 
and we were speeding across the great Bavarian plain, 
which, for the most part coarse and desolate in appear- 
ance, stretches far, far away to the mountains of Tyrol. 
Here and there near the villages the patches of cultiva- 
tion and the plantations of fruit-trees look the more 
attractive by contrast. At Warthausen, a low, swelling 
hill on the distant horizon catches your eye; and at 
Biberach the piles of firewood are of such a length that 
you begin to wonder when you are to get past them. 
Save these objects, and a few peculiarities of costume, 
there is little to engage your attention ; and had not 
History done something for the great plain it would be 
dreary indeed. From time to time, since the days of 
the invading Huns, she has left her footprints on it; 
and some will recur to your memory. Across this plain 
Luther took his way on his memorable flight from 
Augsburg ; and where it borders " Isar rolling rapidly" 
was fought the battle that inspired Campbell's " Hohen- 
linden." As twilight came on, a lamp was lit at each end 

C2 



20 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

of the carriage, notwithstanding that we were only 
third-class passengers. I record the fact with the more 
satisfaction, as it proves others, as well as ourselves, to 
be in the " foremost files of time." 

Broken rest the two previous nights made me sleepy ; 
and as the evening darkened I fell into that half-uncon- 
scious state in which you still hear what is going on 
around. A group of passengers near me were in ani- 
mated conversation, all German, and yet it seemed to 
me their speech was English. The stream of words 
and sentences flowed without a break; the sense to me 
was perfect in English ; but the instant that, reasoning 
with myself, I opened my eyes, it became German. No 
sooner, however, did my eyes close once more than it 
was again English. Again and again the same thing 
occurred ; and my being fully aware of the illusion did 
not preserve me from it. 

Darker and darker grew the great plain as we hurried 
onwards. We stopped at many stations; but no time 
was lost. Scarcely had the train ceased to move than 
"fertig" cried the conductor as he slammed a door ; 
"fertig" answered the driver ; "fertig" echoed far off 
out of the gloom in the rear, and on we went again, 
keeping time to the minute. Brightly the stars twinkled. 
Presently our tickets were collected, and a few minutes 
after ten we came to the terminus at Friedrichshafen. 
Outside the gates, gleaming in the darkness, swung a 
group of lanterns. " Post," shouted a passenger. 
"Post," answered a lantern-bearer, who approached 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 21 

and conducted us to the hotel, where a well-furnished 
supper-room awaited us, and a landlord who took plea- 
sure in supplying our wants. 

Thus, on the night of my third day I slept on the 
shores of the Lake of Constance, from the upper ex- 
tremity of which my walk was to begin. 



22 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 



CHAPTER II. 

A Trip to Rohrschach— The Sentis — The Vorarlberg Mountains — Traffic 
on the Lake — From Rohrschach to Lindau — A pretty Custom-house — 
Across to Fussach — The Delta — Bregenz — Under the Austrian Eagle's 
Wing — An Inquisitor — An Escort to the Custom-house — The Geb- 
hardsberg — View from the Summit — Life in the Fields — Growth of the 
Land — A Place for Enjoyment — Visitors' Names — Civility with a 
Passport — Begin to walk — Black and Yellow : Emblems of Authority 
— Dornbirn — Religious Emblems — Working and Praying — Change of 
Manners — Hohenems — Fire! Fire! Fire! — Emulous Fire-engines — 
Jews — Strange Dialect — Gotzis — A Halbe of Beer — Honesty — A gay 
Churchyard— Feldkirch— The Wochenblatt— -The Valley of the Ill- 
Mischievous Torrent at Frastanz — Nenzing — Thuringen — The Spin- 
nery and the Spinners— Prices of Provisions — A Three Hundred Feet 
Fall — The Bregenzerwald — The Landmote — How to elect a Governor 
— Feats of Bravery — The Night-folk — Legends — Plainness of 
Speech. 

At six the next morning I was on board the Olga, 
steaming out of the harbour, bound for Rohrschach, on 
the opposite side of the lake. The snowy head of the 
Sentis rose clear into the bright morning sky; but 
heavy mists hung about its breast, and on the sides of 
the nearer hills, where they stretched in long white 
banks for miles. . They rose and fell almost imperceptibly, 
as if under the influence of some slow oscillatory move- 
ment ; and, as the sun rose higher, thinned off into 
fleecy streaks. I looked curiously at the throng of 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 23 

Vorarlberg mountains in the south, hoping to be among 
them ere the day was over. The country round Fried- 
richshafen is pleasantly diversified, and you will be quite 
ready to approve the site of the villa from whence the 
King of Wurtemberg looks forth over the inland sea 
during a few weeks of the summer. As the vessel 
increases her distance you can look at once upon five 
dominions — Baden, Wurtemberg, Bavaria, Switzerland, 
and Austria, and only in the last is your passport asked 
for. Trade has done wonders in breaking up restrictions. 
The two great lines of railway terminating on the lake 
bring merchandize and manufactures from Germany for 
the southern provinces and Italy, and in such abundance 
that twenty-five steamers are employed for transport to 
the different towns on the lake, and others are being 
built. A few years ago no one was permitted to enter 
Bregenz by water; now you may voyage from one 
place to another three or four times a day. The lake, 
being more than forty miles long, affords access to a con- 
siderable extent of territory. Opposite Friedrichshafen 
the width is thirteen miles. 

Rohrschach looks pretty from the water — white 
gables ; masts with little flags flying ; a red-capped 
church tower, and green hills and woods behind. At 
half-past seven we steered into the little harbour: the 
fare for the trip was forty kreutzers. After a Swiss 
breakfast at the Gasthaus den Anker, I walked up the 
heights in the rear of the town for the view. A muslin 
factory, driven by a furious brook, repays you with a 
sight of its busy works ; and from thence, as well as 



24 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

from the ancient Statthaltery, once a palace, you get 
peeps through the tree-tops across the landscape. 
Strolling afterwards through the street, I saw Com- 
linirte Armee Marsch in a bookseller's window, show- 
ing that in one sense the allied armies were sympathized 
with. 

After a stay of two hours, during which four steamers 
had come in, I left by the Ludwig for Lindau. Rohr- 
schach, though a little port, receives large quantities of 
corn, chiefly from Suabia ; and you may see the ware- 
houses around the harbour stored to overflowing with 
various kinds of produce. Our vessel was laden with 
timber, hides, cotton bales, and beer, the latter in small, 
long casks, of which the staves are so thick and clumsy 
that you might fancy them of Robinson Crusoe's work- 
manship. By this crossing and recrossing I saw more 
of the lower part of the lake than by going direct to 
Bregenz. An hour brought us to Lindau. It is a 
place that rather imposes on you from the water, with 
its four towers, stone piers, and lighthouse. The vessel 
was made fast to the wharf close to the large building 
distinguished by the Bavarian arms emblazoned above 
the entrance, and a sentry in Bavarian uniform pacing 
up and down. Never before had I seen a custom-house 
and police head-quarters wear so smiling and attractive 
an aspect ; for flowering creepers run up the front, and 
fuchsias, roses, and other flowers in pots profusely adorn 
the steps and the terrace, where a fountain throws up a 
slender column of spray. It is possible to unite the 
ornamental and the fiscal; to cloak authority with 






Otf FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 25 

beauty. There was time for a little run on shore. 
The town is built on two small islets, connected with 
the mainland by bridges a thousand feet long, and by 
the massive railway viaduct. In one place you may 
see the remains of ancient masonry, black with age — 
the Heidenmauer, or Heathen's Wall — said to have been 
built by the Romans. Being the terminus of the Great 
Bavarian Railway from Munich and Augsburg, Lindau 
is daily growing in importance. A colossal statue of 
King Maximilian is to be erected. A dozen or more 
steamers arrive and depart every day; and new stone 
piers, extending far into the water, enclose a harbour 
commodious enough for the increasing trade. 

The half hour expired, and we steamed across the 
lake once more to Fiissach, in the Austrian territory. 
On approaching, you see long beds of rushes, and a low, 
half-drowned shore. The Rhine falls in here, and 
depositing the mud and gravel washed down from the 
mountains, shallows are formed that threaten at no 
distant day to stop the navigation. The process has 
been going on for ages, and the land has won some 
miles from the water. We made towards a low, long 
causeway, built across the swamps to the firm shore, and 
having landed a passenger and a bale, the vessel was 
steered for Bregenz. The beauty of its situation be- 
comes more and more striking as you draw nearer : the 
broad lake in front, and a sweep of hills in the rear, 
among which the Pf andlerberg rises pre-eminent. And 
the bright green of the pastures in contrast with the 
dark hue of the pines, and the shady walks zigzagging 



26 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

up the slopes under these masses of birch and walnut, 
form a scene which you long to be exploring. The 
boat stopped at the landing-place, where the black and 
yellow flag was flying : I stepped on shore, and for the 
first time found myself under the wing of the Austrian 
eagle. 

My foot was not off the plank before a man asked me 
if I had my passport, and requested to see it. As he 
wore no uniform, I inquired in return whether he was 
an official with authority to make the request, and being 
answered in the affirmative, gave up my credentials. 

" Where are you going?" was the next question. 

" I wish to go wherever I please in Tyrol : so if you 
make the visa for Venice, that will give me room 
enough." 

a Where are you going to stay?" 

" Nowhere." 

" But travellers stay somewhere. They go to an 
hotel to dine. What hotel shall you go to ?" 

" None." 

u What do you mean to do then ? for it has just 
struck twelve ; we are going to dinner, and you cannot 
have your passport till two o'clock." 

" I shall go up the Gebhardsberg." 

" You can't do better." And away walked my ex- 
aminer, with the passport in his hand. 

A soldier marched me to the custom-house, where 
the clerk was just locking the door to go to his dinner; 
but he stayed for a minute to ask me if I had anything 
for duty, and to peep into my knapsack without dis- 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 27 

turbing its contents ; and gave me leave to deposit it 
there in safety, under lock and key, until my return 
from the hill. 

I made my way out to the zigzags which I had seen 
from the lake. Seats are placed at commanding points, 
where you may rest and contemplate the gradually 
widening prospect. It is one that fills you with glow- 
ing expectations of the wider prospect to be seen from 
the top. The last stage of the ascent is the steepest ; but 
the path runs under a forest of larches, where the green 
shade strikes cool and grateful after the burning sun. 
At length a small grassy level, from which a few steps 
lead up to an arched doorway. You ascend, and enter- 
ing the tavern, the hostess says, GWad oben — straight 
up — and mounting to the upper floor you find yourself 
on a spacious balcony, looking down on the most 
magnificent view to be seen anywhere around the Lake 
of Constance. Immediately beneath, a surging forest of 
firs, birches, walnuts, poplars, stretching from summit 
to base, where it appears to mingle with the orchards. 
Here and there grim, weatherbeaten crags burst 
through, higher and higher, till they join the mighty 
Pf andler which rises on the right, feathered with pines, 
tier above tier, disputing possession of the summit with 
the hoary rocks. Thus is formed a grand semicircle 
behind the town, and carrying your eye onwards you 
have hills on hills on both shores away to Constance 
and the Suabian Alps. And the broad blue lake 
stretching between, blending with a faint twinkling 
haze in the distance, dotted here and there with a sail, 



28 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

or clouded with the trailing smoke of a steamer. Fiis- 
sach and Lindau seem but a mile distant ; and many a 
scattered gleam from wall and window denote a teeming- 
population on the German shore. Turn and look to- 
wards Tyrol : you see peak on peak crested with snow, 
towering aloft in groups, that excite your imagination 
as to the wonders you are to see when walking under 
their shadow. 

Around you is the pleasant noise of wind among the 
branches ; and from below the voice of Nature and of 
labour ascends to your ear. The secrets of both appear 
to be laid open to you. Cottages are thickly strewn 
around the base of the hill, and over the broad level, 
the delta of the Rhine ; and you see the hats of the 
women, who are hoeing among the vines or maize, or 
tossing the hay, shining like disks of gold. Some are 
singing a homely song, which sounds musical in the 
distance. The roads seem pale brown ribands stretched 
across the levels, or curved along the hill-sides. And 
there lies the town, apparently indulging in a siesta. 
And why not ? Here is the place for enjoyment, if 
anywhere. And then the river, the Aach, immediately 
beneath : it seems almost a deformity, brawling along 
of a muddy hue, in the middle of a bed of sand and 
gravel, fringed with driftwood, and here and there a 
few huge boulders. You now see to what a distance 
the land has encroached on the water. There is reason 
to believe that the lake once extended to Hohenems, a 
village through which we shall pass by-and-by. But 



01ST FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 29 

though not beautiful, the stream roars a sonorous bass 
to all other sounds. 

After a lingering gaze, I called for bread, cheese, and 
wine, and dined on the balcony in presence of the 
glorious scene, felicitating myself on such a happy be- 
ginning of my wanderings. Everything conspired, to 
give delight — the fresh cool breeze, the sense of freedom, 
the glow of expectation, made my visit to the Gebhards- 
berg an incident to be remembered. 

The host brought the visitors' book and placed it 
before me, with pen and ink. I turned over a number 
of pages and saw but two British names, and one of 
those written with a wretched attempt to be funny. 
But among the hundreds of names scribbled on the 
wooden wall of the house not one was English, all Ger- 
man or French. So we are not the only people who 
have the habit of inscribing their epitaphs as. they 
travel. 

The cool breeze tempts you to wander about the 
summit, or to take a peep at the church, which stands 
near the tavern, where, as I saw, some of the guests pass 
a quarter of an hour on their knees. I met a number 
of visitors on my descent : one, panting laboriously and 
wiping his brow, inquired eagerly whether there was 
any chance of a breath of air on the top.- I reassured 
him. It was three o'clock when I got back to the town. 
On presenting myself at the Passport Office, the clerk, 
who was speaking to a rustic, immediately left him and 
came to me. The poor peasant is always made to wait 



30 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

and give place to others whose time is regarded as of 
more value. I saw that my passport was signed for 
Venice, and I asked if I might now go whithersoever I 
would in and through Tyrol ; and particularly Avhether 
there was any danger of my being molested by the 
gendarmes while crossing the Stelvio. 

The answer was, " You may choose your own route. 
No one has a right to stop you ; and whether you get 
to Venice or not, makes no difference." I thanked the 
gentleman, and as I went out he wished me a " gluckliche 
Reise" — pleasant journey. German is here the universal 
language ; not one of the officials spoke anything else. 
I got my knapsack and started on the road leading 
across the delta for Feldkirch. > 

Looking back from near the bridge, the Gebhards- 
berg is seen to terminate in a long bold cliff, rising 
abruptly from the plain. And having crossed the 
stream, you are at once among fields and orchards; and 
there are the cottages with the high, far-spreading roofs, 
the outside galleries, the projecting windows, and orna- 
mental coating of shingles, and other characteristics 
generally described as Swiss — a style that you gladly 
renew acquaintance with. Every house is numbered ; 
and on many you see the plate of an insurance company 
inscribed Milano — a sign that Italy cannot be very far 
off. Beyond Lauterach you come upon emblems of 
authority erected at the road-side, the first of many, as 
you will afterwards discover: two posts painted in 
diagonal stripes of black and yellow, after the manner 
of a barber's pole, with the double eagle atop, and on 



OX FOOT THEOUGH TYROL. 31 

one Bezirksamt Bregenz, on the other Bezirksamt 
Dornbirn — equivalent to our parish boundary stones. 
You will find them useful in defining your topogra- 
phical knowledge. The great beam of the toll-bar, 
swinging vertically, poised by a heavy block at the 
pivot, is similarly decorated. 

Dornbirn, a large scattered village, more populous 
than any town in the Vorarlberg, comes next, and 
presents you with a crowd of characteristics, architec- 
tural and artistic. Quaint carvings — the jutting ends 
of the girders fashioned into eagles, dogs, and other 
animals not easy to describe — spout-heads resplendent 
with gilding, and paintings on the house-fronts. Here 
is a life-size Christ looking anything but compassionate ; 
there the Apostles look down on you from among 
panels bearing coats of arms, and the Virgin is to be 
seen on all sides. Here, too, you will become aware of 
the care bestowed on the church — of which more strik- 
ing proofs as you go farther into the country — you read 
on the pediment Domus Dei et Porta Cceli, while in 
the interior are graven images and other adornments, dis- 
played so as to produce an effect on the mind of the or- 
thodox worshipper. But that you will not find the 
same skill in all, may be seen at once, in the smaller 
church as you leave the village. Working and praying 
is, or was some years ago, the universal practice. The 
whiz and rattle of three or four large cotton factories, 
and the snarl of stocking-weaving in many a cottage, 
and the busy operations of dyeing, bleaching, and 
smelting, testify that work is still vigorous. And some 



32 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

of the old folk will tell you it was an evil day for the 
province when cotton-spinning' was introduced from 
Switzerland. It changed their manners; made them 
lay aside their ancient distinctive costume ; brought in 
coffee and potatoes instead of their good bread, milk, 
and wine ; and the young people, no longer content with 
music by the paternal hearth, must throng to the danc- 
ing-floors at the public-houses. And look at the con- 
sequences: though they earn more money, they miss 
their former training ; the fields are not so well culti- 
vated as in times past, and frauds and vices have crept 
in which were unknown to their fathers. No more 
simplicity of character, or trustful belief. The very 
teachings of the clergy are questioned, and made to 
bear unheard-of interpretations. So say the old folk, 
full of fond regret for the days of their youth. 

The frogs were beginning their evening croak in the 
swampy meadows that border the road when I reached 
Hohenems, about three and a half hours from Bregenz, 
where, content with a short walk at the outset, I halted 
for the night. Before ten I was startled from my first 
sleep by loud shouts expressive of great alarm ; the sound 
of hurrying feet, and answering shouts from a dozen 
voices at once, some faint and far off. I jumped out 
of bed, and there, beyond the orchard, about fifty yards 
from my window, saw tongues of fire darting through 
the gable of one of the large wooden houses that had so 
much charmed my eye a few hours earlier. Now here, 
now there, flashing and quivering, the flame spread 
with inconceivable velocity, bursting out at distant 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 33 

crannies, and crackling and roaring as a mighty furnace 
fed with thorns. For a moment I stood transfixed in 
surprise; but recalled by the heat scorching my face, I 
hastily dressed, and ran out to lend a hand if needful. 
The landlord was hurrying down stairs ; and as clouds 
of sparks were falling on his roof, I charged him to shut 
every window on the side towards the fire, and station 
himself aloft with buckets of water. Although not 
more than two minutes had elapsed by the time I got 
out, the whole house was then in a blaze, from door- sill 
to roof-tree. The big church-bell was boom — boom — 
booming its sonorous alarm far and wide, and hundreds 
of villagers were on the spot, wild with apprehension, 
for the houses across the road began to scorch; the 
shingles curled and smoked, and if they took fire what 
was to become of the village? But there was order 
amid the apparent confusion: some tore up the planks 
that covered the swift road-side brook ; others brought 
huge poles armed with hooks to match, and tore down 
whatever they could of the blazing walls ; others again, 
running into the nearest houses, helped to bring out 
the household gear, while troops of little children rushed 
shrieking forth in their night-clothes, followed by their 
parents, and grandfathers and grandmothers, each bear- 
ing a chair, a bundle, or a coffer to a place of safety. 
Boom — boom — boom went the bell: the cocks crew; 
and a flock of pigeons flew circling round above the 
burning mass, looking weird and unearthly through the 
lurid atmosphere. The opposite houses seemed about 
to burst into a flame, when an engine rattled up, and the 

D 



34 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

supply of water being copious, a stream was quickly 
playing on the threatened roofs. How the shingles 
hissed under the sudden gush ! Then a second engine ; 
then a third, all belonging to the village, and the fire 
itself was attacked. At times a lumbering chest of 
drawers or a bedstead would be seen to fall amid the 
fierce light crashing to the basement, and a jet of sparks 
flew up as from a volcano. The chimney-stack stood 
bravely for a while, the flame roaring out, as if in mad 
triumph over the destruction ; presently it leant a little 
to one side — then it sank a little, leant yet more, and 
fell with a mighty shock. The apple-trees in the or- 
chard were singed and scorched, and heaps of young 
apples fell roasted to the ground. 

Now, fast as horses could draw them, came the engines 
from Dornbirn, and a few minutes later two from other 
villages ; and the seven all playing at once, while the 
gangs at the hooks worked with right good-will, the 
fire began to abate. These gangs knew their duty well, 
and never flinched in their work of levelling, proving 
how well they had learned the best way of subduing 
such inflammable materials. One engine was still 
playing on the smouldering heap when I went back to 
my bed. 

The destruction was complete ; but, happily, no life 
was lost. Of the three families who tenanted the house, 
one was uninsured ; and I saw a tall, rugged, sunburnt 
man weeping like a child. Tears and perspiration 
mingled, poured down his face, and he shook his hands 
above his head despairingly : he had lost his all. 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 35 

Nearly every village has its engine, in compliance 
with what is certainly a salutary law; and the people 
come to the rescue knowing how best to set about it. 
Terrible fires have, however, at times occurred, which 
defied all efforts to put them out, leaving a whole 
community houseless. The villages round about the 
scene of disaster vie with each other in hastening with 
their succours ; and the Appenzellers will hurry with 
their engines across the Rhine, emulous to be first at 
the conflagration. 

Among the groups who stood looking at the blackened 
beams and heaps of ashes when I started early the next 
morning, were a few of unmistakable Hebrew feature, 
belonging, no doubt, to some of the ninety-two Jewish 
families who reside in the village, where they maintain 
a good school and a rabbi. The law forbids an increase 
of their number, and allows no more than eight fami- 
lies besides to remain within the limits of the two pro- 
vinces ; of these seven dwell at Innsbruck and one at 
Botzen. 

Turn aside for a few minutes from the main road to 
the church, from whence the alarm pealed so sonorously 
last night, and you may see among other note-worthy 
objects preserved within it a cardinal's hat that once 
belonged to Carlo Borromeo. Then, on leaving the vil- 
lage, you pass under tall limestone cliffs, bearing on 
their summit the ruins of the old Castle of Ems : hence 
the name Hohen-Ems. Those bits of wall date from 
the tenth century, and they tell the old story of un- 
happy captives whom they once immured — Tancred 

d2 



36 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

of Sicily's blinded son was one of them — and of warrior 
knights, who made them famous. 

Every one you meet on the road salutes with a 
friendly " Morgen" and everywhere you see signs of 
industry — the rattle of looms in the cottages, and women 
at the doors, making their spinning-wheels hum again, 
while keeping up a lively gossip. There is something 
screeching in the tones of their voice like what may be 
heard among the women of Caernarvonshire ; and their 
dialect is a strange one, abounding in corruptions and 
contractions, puzzling even to a German. In some 
words of two syllables, the second is entirely dropped; 
now and then you may hear u Atte n and u Omme" for 
lather and mother: and the diminutives of baptismal 
names are some of. them amusing; Johann Jacob, be- 
comes Hansjok, and Maria Margaretha, Marigret. The 
Vorarlbergers, indeed, are noted for their plainness of 
speech, and away from the high-roads you will find them 
addressing the gentleman and the peasant with equal 
familiarity: nor do they scruple to speak their mind 
concerning their rulers. 

The morning was very hot, and the Engel at Gotzis 
so invitingly clean, that I could not help calling for a 
Halbe, half-measure, of beer. It was brought in one of 
those heavy tapering glass tankards, covered by a 
bright pewter lid, which you find everywhere in use on 
both sides of the Bavarian frontier. Here the numbers 
of different sizes ranged on the shelves made one corner 
of the room glitter again. Two small loaves lay already 
on the table, and while resting I read in the Schwa- 



Otf FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 37 

bische Merkur the telegraphic despatches from London 
of the previous day — July 4 — great prominence being 
given to the news from the Krim. Presently you 
discover the lid of the tankard to be useful as well as 
ornamental, for the flies swarm round in such clouds, 
that but for the protection your foaming draught would 
become thickened by the worrying pests. Patience ! 
you will find them ten times more numerous farther 
south. At first, the large earthenware stove in one 
corner of the room, and the crucifix hanging in the 
other, strike you as unaccustomed objects ; but they 
will become things familiar before your ramble is over, 
and you will find the crucifix meant for something more 
than mere ornament. 

On paying, I was made aware of the difference be- 
tween paper and silver money. Eight kreutzers was 
the sum asked; but the hostess seeing that I produced 
specie, said, " Only six kreutzers, silver money;" a little 
instance of honesty which made a favourable impression 
on me, and the more so as occurring by the side of a 
well-frequented high-road. Other equally favourable 
touches of character came before me afterwards. 

The interior of the church here is resplendent with 
gilding, and, decorated with images, banners, and 
green branches, has quite a lively appearance. But the 
churchyard is dazzling — gaudy as a bazaar ; for the low 
gravestones are surmounted by iron or wooden crosses, 
of various size and shape, painted red or blue, touched 
off with gold, and embellished with pictures of Christ 
or the Virgin, — gay and glittering memorials which- 



38 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

ever way you look. The wall tablets are not less 
showy : to some a small holy water basin is affixed ; 
and scarcely one but bears a passage of Scripture by 
way of epitaph ? and the prayer, Gott gebe ihnen und 
alien die ewige Ruh! Here grief erects no sombre 
monuments ; and the Friedhof — the Inclosure of Peace, 
as the Germans touchingly name it — becomes a place 
for sorrow to decorate. 

But I must not loiter too much by the way. Beyond 
Altenstadt the hills come nearer together and form a 
defile, and going onwards you find every slope not 
already in possession of the rocks and pines teeming 
with luxuriant vines, and something forest-like in the 
maze of graceful tendrils seen at different elevations. 
How prettily they embower the few road-side villas that 
indicate your approach to Feldkirch, the chief town of 
the Vorarlberg, where history and scenery combine to 
detain you for a while. The strong wall, with its round 
towers; the ancient church; the old knightly edifice in 
the corn-market, with a shield on its balcony; and on 
the heights above the ruins of Schattenburg, once the 
abode of the Counts of Montfort, will arrest your atten- 
tion. The 111 roars and rushes through the town, dash- 
ing into the basin through a rocky cleft in the hills on 
one side, and dashing out to join the Rhine through a 
similar cleft on the other. Stroll to the bridge, and 
gaze around on the scene from thence. Call to mind 
that Massena was there driven back in 1799, by a band 
of patriot defenders — native militia, students, and wo- 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. , 39 

men, all fighting valiantly, and your impression will 
perhaps be quickened. 

I turned my back to the Rhine, and took the road to 
Innsbruck, up the valley of the 111. This river, about 
forty miles in length, is the largest in the Vorarlberg ; 
and here, at its entrance into the town, drives three or four 
large cotton spinneries, built in a picturesque spot at the 
foot of beetling cliffs. While dining at a tavern oppo- 
site, I saw on the table the Feldkircher Wochenblatt, a 
small quarto sheet of four pages, filled with advertise- 
ments, scraps of news, and the rates of exchange. That 
even such a paper should be published every week is 
a fact highly creditable to the little town. Here, as 
elsewhere, I found twelve o'clock to be the dinner- 
hour, not to be disturbed or encroached on by business 
— a very sensible practice. Government offices are 
closed for two hours, which gives the officials time for 
a stroll or a nap after their meal. 

Then out through the gap, where the impetuous 
stream leaves scant room for the road under the crags, 
and ere long you see the ridgy mass of the Rh'atico, 
streaked and capped with snow on the right. How in- 
spiriting to come nearer to the hills; to find them 
closing more and more around you ! Here is the Wall- 
gau — Walsch or Italian district — abounding in traces 
of its former inhabitants and their Romansch dialect, in 
the names of villages and other places. To those who 
study history as a science the Vorarlberg is a singularly 
interesting country, from the diversity of races and of 



40 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

tongue yet discoverable within its borders. The an- 
cient Rhaetian, the Burgundian, the Italian, Swiss and 
German, have all contributed to the present stock. 

Your eye will be attracted by the breaks and gorges 
on the right, looking wild and gloomy where they dis- 
appear in the recesses of the hills, running back to the 
frontier of the Grisons, from whence at times rush de- 
vastating torrents. A remarkable instance occurred at 
Frastanz, the first village on the way, in 1846. The 
weather had been exceedingly hot and dry until August, 
when twelve days of nearly continuous rain flooded every 
ravine, and all the lower valleys and roads; and fields and 
pastures w r ere obliterated by the avalanches of mud and 
gravel that came pouring down. The small stream that 
flows from the gorge behind Frastanz and drives a 
spinnery on its way to the 111, brought down such a 

(prodigious quantity of stones as to form a bank twenty- 
five feet high, on the top of which the stream ran in a 
broad, shallow channel. The bridge and the road had 
both to be raised with a steep slope on either side ; and 
the inhabitants were kept constantly on the alert, with 
pine logs, beams, and branches, to establish an embank- 
ment for the protection of their village: the stream 
was flowing hi^h above the houses and the lowest floor 
of the mill. The channel cut to feed the wheel was 
filled with pebbles as fast as it could be cleared out, 
day after day, for a fortnight. In the second week the 
bank had risen three feet higher, and the road and bridge 
had again to be raised. All this time the great torrent 
of pebbles was in ceaseless motion, rolling down from a 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 41 

landslip seven miles up the stream, caused, as was be- 
lieved, by too many trees having been cut down at once 
along the bank. The roots and stumps having decayed, 
the loosened soil was furrowed by the heavy rains and 
washed away. By November the stream had worn its 
way down to its former bed, and carried the mass of 
pebbles into the 111, the bed of which was raised as far 
as Feldkirch. In 1848, a smaller stream, flowing from 
the same hills, buried a hundred acres of the valley be- 
neath stones and mud to the depth of fifty feet. Not 
least astonishing is the very small quantity of water by 
which such wide-spread ruin may be accomplished. 
Dwellers near the mountains must make up their minds 
for calamity as well as the picturesque ; bad weather to 
them is fraught with consequences unknown elsewhere. 
The past winter (1854-55) having been not less severe 
all over the Continent than in England, great mischief 
ensued on the breaking up of the frost, as we shall see 
in the course of the next few days on our way to the 
Stelvio. 

At Nenzing, a village on the Mangbach, noisy with 
rushing water, I turned off to the left for Thiiringen, 
glad to leave the unsheltered road, where the heat was 
overpowering, for a narrow lane bordered here and 
there by a ragged hedgerow. About half an hour's 
walk brought me to the approaches of the Walserthal, 
and in sight of a spinnery high up among the trees, 
and near it, on the top of a vine-mantled slope, the 
delightful residence of the proprietor. I made haste 
up the steep path, and was soon assured of a hearty 



42 OK FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

welcome, such indeed as might have been expected 
from the representative of an ancient Scottish family, 
as renowned for its hospitality as its valour. 

Here I stayed till noon of the next day; too short a 
time for all that was to be seen and talked about. The 
view from the garden walks is magnificent, backed by 
a mighty spur of the Rhaetian Alps, the summit 
of which, the haunt of chamois, leads your eye to 
snowy peaks and purple cones rising one behind the 
other far away into Tyrol. Below spreads the green 
floor of the valley, running here and there up the lower 
slopes of the hills, where the clearings encroach on the 
pine-forests. You may imagine it a vast amphitheatre, 
furrowed by a mountain brook ; a lake reposing in the 
curve ; a few firs scattered about among the fields ; vines 
and meadows which occupy every available spot; out- 
lying barns and cottages, and a village, with its church, 
to give human interest to a scene that you might gaze 
on for hours. It is characteristic : the white ridges and 
streaks of snow, the patches of bright green alp — 
emerald pastures, among the dark masses of forest and 
gray rock on the rugged hill-sides — make an impression 
on the mind not easy to describe ; one often to be re- 
peated as you wander on through other valleys. What 
a privilege to live day after day in presence of such a 
prospect ! 

The signs of prosperity in the landscape are mainly 
due to the establishment of the spinnery. Since then, 
land has greatly increased in value, and is now worth 
eight hundred florins the acre. To purchase a Mitmel, 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 43 

about a quarter-acre, is generally the height of a vil- 
lager's aspiration; and with this for his estate, he will 
live on contentedly. At first, the people were shy of 
the work, and awkward enough when they ventured to 
try; but under the instruction of a few Swiss spinners, 
they learnt the method, and once habituated, they soon 
found in regular wages an agreeable spur to industry. 
The number employed is three hundred and forty, and 
I saw troops of men and women, lads and lasses, going 
to or returning from their work, many of them singing, 
and all decently dressed. Taking a general average, 
each earns somewhat less than six shillings a week; 
and, as is the practice at all the mills of the Yorarlberg, 
wages are paid every four weeks. Many of them save 
money, or assist their parents, and live comfortably in 
other respects ; not a few eat meat frequently, and 
keep pigs. A notion of their resources may be gathered 
from a few particulars of prices : the price of beef in 
Bludenz and Feldkirch is from 11 J- to 13 \ kreutzers 
the pound; veal, Ilk.; mutton, 13k.; pork, 16 to 
18k.; butter, 30 to 32 k. ; bread (middle quality), 6 \ k. ; 
and salt, 4-J k. Three kreutzers are equivalent to a 
penny, and the pound in each case is heavier than ours : 
81 pounds being equal to 100 English. Eggs vary in 
price, but may often be bought at twelve kreutzers the 
dozen. Pine firewood sells at from six to eight florins 
the klafter ; that is, a pile six and a half feet in length 
and height, and three feet in width. But in the com- 
mon woods fuel may be had for the trouble of felling 
and carrying home. The daily pay of a carpenter is 



44 ON FOOT THROUGH TYEOL. 

one florin; of a cabinet-maker, half as much more; but 
both suffer from want of work in the winter. 

The Austrian Government takes some pains to en- 
courage the establishment of productive industry, 
wherein the population may find a resource. Fo- 
reigners resident in the country may own land without 
being naturalized, and are at the same time exempt 
from military service. 

The spinnery is as well situate for water-power as for 
prospect. A fall of three hundred and fifty feet in 
height tumbles down a. rocky chasm immediately be- 
hind; and of this, a three hundred feet column, de- 
scending through a twelve-inch iron tube at the rate of 
six cubic feet per second, feeds a turbine that drives the 
machinery with the energy and regularity of a hundred 
horse-power steam-engine, roaring all the while in its 
dark vault like an imprisoned demon. I could not 
help starting back when the door was opened to give me 
a sight of its swift revolutions. I climbed the rude step- 
ladder which leads up the side of the hill to the top of 
the fall, where a man is constantly watching in a little 
hut to keep the grating free from weeds, as even a 
small stoppage makes a sensible difference to the power 
of the turbine below. Here, too, are the reservoirs for 
maintaining a proper flow, dug out of the turfy plain, 
which forms, so to speak, a great step on the hill. 
Beyond it you see another fall, and darksome hollows 
in the hills, rising higher and higher, shutting in the 
valley as an amphitheatre. Among them you may ex- 
plore an old ruin or two, and from their summits over- 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 45 

look the Bregenzerwald — a forest region well worth a 
visit, notwithstanding that, as in most of our English 
forests, the trees are but few. There you may hear 
plainness of speech and peculiarity of dialect in unso- 
phisticated vigour. A German traveller relates that he 
heard some of the old folk talking of the De Montforts 
as of nobles still within remembrance, and yet it was in 
1290 that Hugo von Montfort mortgaged the forest 
to Kaiser Rudolf for a thousand marks silver. That 
game was once abundant is evident, from the names of 
many of the villages, such as Hirschau, Schnepfau, and 
others. 

A hardy race were the foresters, with a grim love of 
liberty — not to be trifled with, yet associated with a 
remarkable love of order. Up to the middle of last 
century their Landmote used to meet in a wooden 
building on the top of the Bezeck, a hill near Be- 
zau, to which the members mounted by a ladder. 
When all had assembled the ladder was taken away, 
and not replaced until the Landamman showed himself 
at the entrance, waving a flag and crying that all were 
agreed, and ready to maintain the ancient liberties. 
Under such circumstances there could have been little 
fear of debates prolonged till past midnight. The 
Landamman was chosen in the early days for . seven 
years — later for four years only, by the folk assembled 
on the meadow at Andelsbuch, in presence of the VogD 
of Feldkirch, who attended with a guard. Four trust- 
worthy householders were selected, and each stationed 
under a tree a short distance from the others; and then, 



46 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

on a given signal, the electors ran every man to the 
tree where stood the candidate of his choice, and he 
who, on counting heads, was found to have the greatest 
number around him was declared Landamman. Then 
followed a fortnight's rejoicing, with music, dancing, 
and tippling, the more enjoyed as the new ruler paid 
for all, Not always, however, did the election termi- 
nate peacefully: in 1741 much discontent was Created 
by a departure from the old customs, and a shot fired 
through a window killed the newly-elected Landam- 
man as he sat at supper : nor was the murderer ever 
discovered. 

The Vorarlbergers, indeed, have always shown them- 
selves ready to fight in the hour of need, offering more 
volunteers than the authorities have been able to pay. 
But at all times, and even when their province became 
an Austrian Circle, their allegiance was sworn only on 
the condition that their liberties should be respected. 
As before remarked, they use much freedom of speech, 
and are not molested on that account. It was in the 
Vorarlberg the first signs of that effervescence appeared 
which preceded the rising against the crushing power 
of Napoleon. What must the men be, when we read 
of the women, that during the Thirty Years' War they 
drove a Swedish division out of the Lechthal and 
killed them to the last man ! The place of slaughter is 
still called the " Red Corner," and the church bells of 
Schwarzenberg and Egg are rung on every anniversary 
to celebrate the victory. 

Among peculiarities of language the foresters make 



ON FOOT THKOUGH TYEOL. 47 

much use of u fein" and " unfein" to express admiration 
and dislike ; for baths, they say " Badeln" and Nessel- 
wangle for Little Nesselwang, forming the diminutive 
by a final syllable. Some can tell of the sprites and 
fairies that used to haunt the solitary hill-tops, or the 
secret places of the mountains : how that a herdsman, 
going back to his mountain hut for something he had 
forgotten, after quitting it at the close of the season, 
found a ghostly neatherd in possession, and busying 
himself with spectral dairy utensils and cattle ; of 
another who, having befouled a fairy ring on his way 
homewards, was awoke at midnight, and made to carry 
a red-hot hammer in his hand to the scene of his 
offence. At times a lonesome wanderer has beheld a 
cloud of dollars floating with enticing glitter in the air, 
and always just out of reach, mocking his desires : 
such appearances are said to be a sign that treasures 
are buried somewhere in the ground beneath the 
silvery cloud. Stones rolling down the hill have 
slipped from the grasp of unhappy sprites who, toiling 
without repose, must roll them up again. The malig- 
nant ghost, watching his opportunity, sometimes lets 
the stone escape, when it will strike down a peasant or 
an unfortunate cow in its descent. Many are the 
freaks of the "Night-folk:" one instance mentioned by 
Steub may suffice. A villager very fond of music 
went one night upon the Brunnenberg, where the 
fairies used to meet, and listened to their wild music, 
and watched their dancing and other diversions until 
daybreak. Towards dawn one after the other slipped 



48 ON FOOT THROUGH TYEOL. 

away : the last, however, before going, stuck his knife 
into the plank above the door of the dancing-shed. 
So, at least, it seemed to the amazed spectator ; but 
when he began to walk he found the knife sticking in 
his knee. Unluckily, no one could pull it out, and 
the curious fellow had to carry it about in his leg, 
though without pain, for a whole year. But the 
twelvemonth over, he went again to the same place, 
where, as before, he saw merry pastimes and. jocund 
feasting, and a sudden flight as the morn grew red; 
when the last reveller saying, " I must take my knife, 
though," snatched it from over the door, and the watcher 
returned to his home without the blade in his knee. 

Many other legends may you hear during a patient 
travel through the Bregenzerwald. Now and then you 
will meet with a woman famous for her skill in needle- 
work, or a peasant artist expert in sacred subjects ; a 
villager who has made a piano, or a rustic antiquary. 
Something to reward your pains besides scenery, even 
up to the farther boundary — the Bavarian Alps — where 
you will find the hill-folk not less given to plainness of 
speech than the foresters; they say " Du" — thou — to 
their king. 



OIS T FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 49 



CHAPTER III. 

Bludenz — Duke Friedrich — The Montavonerthal — Migratory Folk — A 
Storm — Schruns — Costume — " You can't stay here" — The Village 
Inn — The Villagers, and what they talked about — The Gendarme — 
Bedroom Furniture — Paper Money — The Klosterthal — Waterfalls — 
A meagre Breakfast — House-front Inscriptions — An Innkeeper's Senti- 
ments — The Oratory — Dalaas— Stuben — Up theAdlerberg — The Snow 
— Road-menders — The Summit — The Frontier — Enter Tyrol — St. 
Christof — The Rescuer — Striking Scenery — St. Anton — Kalbsbraten — 
Friendly Salutations — Costume — Going to Church — A Litany — Glad- 
some Feelings — Log-houses — Road-side Pictures — Flirsch — An Organ 
Polka— The Sunday Question settled — Wagons — Fiddles — The Ro- 
sanna— Castle of Wiesberg — Paznaunerthal — Skulls at Ischgl — The 
Innthal — Cross the Inn — Landeck — Swarms of Flies — The Sunday 
Question again — England's Downfall — The Miracle of the Wolf and 
the Bear — The Ragged Minstrel — The Schrofenstein. 

My kind friends saved me the trouble of walking 
the six miles to Bludenz. Our ride took us round the 
head of the valley, away under overhanging cliffs, and 
the ruins of the old Castle of Blumenegg, across the 
Lutzbach, and to the entrance of the Montavonerthal, 
or valley of Montafun, which opens on the right of the 
high-road at the extremity of Bludenz. The town, 
with its two thousand inhabitants, contains nothing par- 
ticularly remarkable ; and when you have looked at the 
house-fronts, the church, and the old nunnery of St. 
Peter, which stands where the roads diverge, there is 

E 



50 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

nothing more to detain you. One of the most note- 
worthy facts in its history is, that Duke Friedrich, Count 
of Tyrol, of whom we shall hear more by-and-by, when, 
flying under ban and outlawry from that benignant Coun- 
cil of Constance, arriving here after dark, was refused 
admittance by the gate-warder. The little town had 
a few years previously sworn allegiance to the Duke, 
and he remembering one of the burghers, had him sum- 
moned, and on his recognition the gate was opened. 
Then the warder, in dread because of his refusal, fell on 
his knees, craving pardon ; but the Duke invited him 
to supper, and gave him a handful of money. 

I wished to see part of the Montavonerthal, and cross 
over the Christberg to the main road again at Dalaas. 
Less than half a mile brought me under the high steep 
hills between which the 111 roars along, now on one 
side of the road, now on the other. Here and there the 
hills approach and form a rocky defile, with scant room 
for the road and furious river, and retiring between, 
leave space for farms, villages, and cherry orchards that 
resemble small forests. Far and wide is the valley re- 
nowned for the Kirschwasser, made from the cherries. 
See how every available spot is brought under cultiva- 
tion, even high up on the hill-sides ; and how numerous 
are the cottages and barns, scattered in all directions ! 
You have before your eyes an instance of population 
treading too close upon production ; where, compelled 
by necessity, the men swarm off and seek subsistence in 
foreign countries ; while the women, with spinning- 
wheel on shoulder, cross the mountains and help the 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 51 

Swiss to spin their flax during some weeks of winter. 
Everywhere signs of industry. The migration has 
diminished, since the establishment of cotton factories 
has provided employment nearer home ; but still one- 
third of the inhabitants wander forth every year — boys 
as cowherds, men as gardeners and masons. As soon as 
the snow melts they begin to move, and return with 
their savings late in autumn. Girls used to go and pass 
a few summer weeks gleaning in the fields of Suabia, 
sleeping at nights in the hay-sheds, and make their way 
home again with bags of meal — acceptable stores for 
the winter. The boys were as well informed concern- 
ing the character of employers beyond the frontier as 
English beggars are as to the comfort of certain unions 
and prisons ; and when once a farmer was cried down, 
he watched in vain for his messengers of spring. The 
Vorarlbergers are said to have a passion for wandering, 
but strongest in the Montavoners : some travel into 
distant lands, and remain away for years ; but the old 
instinct, love of home and fatherland, which never dies, 
drives them back to end their days within hearing of 
the bell that chimed at their baptism. 

The pleasure I felt at finding myself once more deep 
among rocks and hills, under wild precipices and wilder 
summits, listening to the plash of fountains and gurgle 
of rills, a pleasing harmony with the deep roar of the 
river, was damped in a double sense by heavy rain. I 
took shelter in a barn while the thunder growled about 
the hill-tops, and the noise of falling water swelled every 
moment into a louder bass. The stakes hung with hay 

E 2 



52 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

in all the fields, looked like so many dripping scare- 
crows ; but, as I could see, had the hay been piled in 
cocks, much of it would have been washed away by the 
little freshets pouring down from the heights. 

Owing to the delay, I had to stop for the night at 
Schruns, about three hours from Bludenz. With 
Tschagguns, which lies so close that the two appear but 
one village, it constitutes the chief place of the valley. 
Grim cliffs shut it closely in, and a furious stream dashes 
through, sawing timber and grinding corn by the way. 
Some of the women wear a black hat, similar in shape 
to the Turkish fez ; and on the heads of one or two I 
saw a curious tall cylinder, contracted half-way up, so 
as to resemble a big hour-glass. 

At the first public-house I entered, a woman came 
forward. " I can't receive you," she said ; " my mother 
is ill." At the next sign, a few yards farther, . a man 
met me with, "You can't stay here; my daughter is 
dying." A singular coincidence it seemed to me ; but 
I was not sorry, for an unbearable smell pervaded both 
houses. Fortune favoured me the third time, at the 
Lion, where a portly, good-humoured hostess made me 
thoroughly welcome. While I ate my supper, some 
half-dozen men, who sat smoking and drinking at the 
other end of the table, showed they were true Vorarl- 
bergers by their inquisitiveness, and we chatted as I 
finished my Schopf of Hungarian wine — a very agree- 
able vintage, by the way, not thin and sour, as so 
much of the red wine is on the Continent. On hearing 
that I came from London, an ejaculation of surprise 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 53 

burst from the party : " London ! that is a wonderful 
city!" And when I told them how .much bread was 
eaten, and how much beer drunk in the great city every 
day, and that it contained more inhabitants than the 
whole kingdom of Denmark, they lifted up their hands 
in .amazement ; and one answered shrewdly enough, 
" That cannot be a city, it is a province of houses." 
The war, too, was an interesting topic : that was some- 
thing like fighting, at Inkermann ; but Russia was too 
mighty to be beaten; 'and now that the English Field- 
Marshal was dead, Sebastopol would not be taken. u Ja, 
powerful is Russia!" was the burden of their talk. 

Presently other guests came in, who appeared by 
their dress and manners to be the chief personages of 
the village — among them two priests — and all sat down 
to their evening measure of wine, and cigar or pipe. 
One of the priests had just left the death-bed of a young 
woman — the innkeeper's daughter above-mentioned; 
and there was something solemn in the tones of his 
gruff voice as he spoke, after a preliminary sip, " In 
my life-long I have never witnessed so terrible a scene 
as her last hour." 

Then a small tallow candle was lighted, and placed 
on each table ; and the hostess bringing the " Travellers' 
book," I duly entered my name, age, birthplace, where 
from and whither going, and the " Zweck" or object 
of travel, under which latter head I wrote " pleasure." 
The worthy dame watched me attentively while I wrote, 
carried the book off with a grunt of satisfaction, and 
seizing her hammer, knocked off lumps from the enor- 



54 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

mous sugar-loaf that lay on a side-table, to fill the little 
basins for the coffee-drinkers. Half an hour later a tall, 
moustachioed gendarme came in, and beckoning her 
into a dusky corner, spoke for some time in a low, ap- 
parently earnest tone, looking ever and anon at me, as 
I could see by the gleam reflected from his eyes. She 
answered, and he retorted ; but at length he went away, 
and as soon as he was out of hearing she told me, 
laughing heartily, he had blamed her for not having 
required more particulars of myself than I had set 
down in the book. Who was to know whether I had 
written the truth ? 'Twas easy to say anything. What 
did I want in that out-of-the-way village ? and other of 
the like remarks. " But," she concluded, " I gave him 
an answer that sent him off. Those fellows are always 
suspicious." 

There hung on the walls of my bedroom a crucifix, 
two images of saints, a large painting of the Virgin 
and Child, and a benitier on the door-post; and I may 
as well say, once for all, that with rare exceptions my 
Austrian sleeping-quarters were everywhere similarly 
decorated. Never did I see so many religious symbols 
as during this ramble. 

I had provided myself with paper-money at Thiirin- 
gen, and owing to the depreciation got nearly five 
pounds' worth for my four sovereigns, sufficient, I 
thought, to last me all through Tyrol, and made first 
use of it to pay my bill the next morning. It reminded 
me of the days when the so-called " shin-plasters" were 
so abundantly current in New York, to see notes for 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL- 55 

ten kreutzers, — about threepence farthing : the largest 
amount I had was for two florins. Then you have to 
remember that each note is worth one-fifth more than 
the sum named on its face : thus, the ten-kreutzer note 
passes for twelve, and the florin note, not for sixty 
kreutzers, but seventy- two, all of which is a little 
puzzling at the outset. The ten-kreutzer notes, which 
are four inches long and less than two inches wide, 
have their value printed in six different languages or 
dialects, as they circulate all over the empire, except 
Italy. For supper, bed, and breakfast, the charge was 
eighty kreutzers ; and the hostess, on my departure, 
gave me a hearty shake of the hand, and wished me a 
pleasant journey. 

The Christberg was out of the question, for the 
morning was showery, and the hills were hidden with 
dense mists nearly to their base. To climb a mountain 
when all the footpaths are running streams, and every- 
thing is invisible beyond the small damp circle of 
which you form the centre in the heavy pall, is a task 
not to be voluntarily undertaken ; so I retraced my 
steps to the ancient nunnery. I might, indeed, have 
kept on up the valley through St. Gallenkirch, and 
over the Zeinis, to Landeck ; but my mind was 
set on the route by the Adlerberg. The church 
bell was tinkling, and the women were trooping to 
the seven o'clock mass as I left the village, some of 
them wearing what were to me novel specimens of 
head-gear: one, an extinguisher-shaped black-worsted 
cap; the other a globular cap of long black fur, all 



56 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

standing on end, and far from graceful. Frequent 
showers fell, and the 111, swollen by the night's rain, 
rushed along, hoarser and louder than the day before; 
and the way, especially under the walnut-trees, was 
miry. However, once on the main road, the ground 
was harder, and it began to be hilly — a great relief to 
one's muscles, for nothing is so wearisome as a conti- 
nuous level. I was now advancing up the Klosterthal, 
by the side of the Alfenz, a noisy stream, that enlivens 
the scene here and there with a foaming cascade. The 
scenery becomes grander ; now a broad sweep of fields 
and meadows, fringed with elder-trees ; now a ravine, 
up which the road curves with a steep ascent, and on 
either side waterfalls come tumbling down, their frothy 
plunges veiled in dancing spray. Here and there you 
see a plunge of a hundred feet before the torrent 
breaks ; scarcely have you passed one than you 
begin to hear the sound of another ; and beautiful are 
the glimpses of the white, living streaks through the 
screen of firs, or against the slopes of sw r ard. In the 
course of a few miles the desire of your eye will be 
fully satisfied as regards waterfalls. 

Still upwards. The rain ceased, and fitful gleams of 
sunshine darting through the mist, made the green turf 
look almost dazzling ; sparkled in the foam ; and 
here and there a rocky summit showed itself for an 
instant, and then was hidden again. I halted for a few 
minutes at a tavern, where the landlord made his 
breakfast of coarse rye bread and a pint of thin, sour 
wine — nothing else — and told me he was quite content 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 57 

therewith. An English labourer would make a wry 
face at such fare ; and yet this man was a farmer as 
well as innkeeper. A little farther, and you may read 
on a house-front one of those inscriptions — half prayer, 
half proverb — which, common to many parts of Ger- 
many, appear to find their fullest expression in Tyrol 
and the Vorarlberg. I insert this one as a specimen: 

$m ®$th$ <2>egett if* atteS gelcgen. §3ttt fur un$, 9ttcma ! 

$cj), £>err, aucf) frier Ux em 

Unb UU btelem £au$ £ C tf ftriberfafyren ; 

^CRtdb unb alle 5te frier ge&en em 

33e$dm£ fcor JetnbeS gefafyren. 
$U& ! So ruf SOUrta an. ©o fja^f bu Hug unb roo&l 
9et&an. # 

And lower, along a beam : 

3d) jjoff auf ©ott unb gufeS ©lucf, 
Unb ba^ alle ©funb unb ^ugenfclkf. 

Then another fall on the right, leaping from the very 
top of the precipice, and the valley, still adorned with 
elder-trees, assumes more and more of a mountainous 
character. On the next public-house the landlord tells 
his sentiments in a quatrain over the door : 



* On God's blessing is all laid. Pray for us, Mary. 
Ah ! Lord, even here turn in 
And let prosperity befall this house ; 
Me and all who enter here 
Protect from danger of foes. 
Ah ! cry then to Mary : so doest thou well and wisely. 
I hope in God and good fortune, 
And that each hour and moment. 



58 ON" FOOT THEOUGH TYROL. 

Die freunMtcl) bt^uriren : 
©jfen, tvltxUn, ja{»Tcn mtd), 
Unb frteblidb abmarfd&trm* 

Presently one of the little oratories by the road-side, 
of which we shall see many in the course of the next 
two weeks, with a crucifix in a railed recess, and two or 
three seats and kneeling-benches in front for the use of 
the faithful, and on one side a caution written up against 
injuring the image. These things make a strange im- 
pression on the mind on renewing acquaintance with 
them, especially on one from a country where sym- 
bolic aids to religion have lost their significance. If 
the inclination to pray be as ample in Tyrol as the 
means and appliances, we may expect to see a people 
prospering under the joint influence of work and wor- 
ship ; but not if genuflexions count as devotion. 

Near Dalaas I passed the path of the Christberg, 
where I should have descended, but for the mists that 
still shrouded the upper half of the mountain. The 
village, traversed by the Alfenz, stands, surrounded by 
a wild kind of beauty, on the lower slope of the Adler- 
berg. I dined on bread, cheese, and beer for twelve 
kreutzers. Had the amount been florins, the hostess 
could not have expressed greater thankfulness; for, as 

* Which may be rendered : 

Such the guests are that I like, 

Who with friendly talking 
Eat and drink, and pay their score — 

Then off in peace go walking. 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 59 

she said, travellers were comparatively few since the 
completion of the railway to Munich. The Innsbruck 
Bregenzer Post Stellwagen arriving as I finished, I rode 
the next stage to Stuben, up-hill all the way, and the 
pace slow enough for observation of the changing 
scenery, of which rocks, firs, and waterfalls, and. the 
rude little village of Klosterle, form the chief features. 
Stuben, which we came to after a three hours' ride, - 
harmonizes well with its still wilder neighbourhood. 
It has many public-houses, for here the ascent of the 
mountain begins in earnest, and wagoners are thirsty. 
I walked on without delay between the two massive 
bastion-like piles of masonry at the end of the village, 
built to ward off avalanches, which in certain seasons rush 
threateningly from the slopes above. Then taking a 
short cut to avoid the zigzag, I scrambled up on the road 
at a point where it commands Stuben, the valley below, 
and a deep ravine on the right, bridged in many places 
by large banks of dirty snow, under which roared a 
muddy torrent. Here the telegraph poles are of large 
size, some a foot in diameter, the better to defy the 
wild weather of the mountains. Wherever possible the 
wire is stretched in a direct line up the steep, and across 
the hollows, avoiding the deviations of the road. A 
Latin inscription on the face of the limestone cliff out 
of which the highway is hewn, records its completion 
in 1787, after four years of hewing and blasting. The 
zigzags once passed, the ascent is long and easy across 
a bleak, dreary-looking region, heaved here and there 
into rocky ridges, dark with heath and mosses. A few 



60 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

patches of brighter vegetation appear in the hollows, 
and cold white peaks are seen afar ; but the general 
aspect is melancholy, which even the half-dozen houses 
and a little Wirthshaus fail to relieve. 

Beyond this, the snow lay in many places twenty 
feet deep, cut away perpendicular as a wall by the 
road-side to keep the thoroughfare open. Men are con- 
tinually employed in clearing and repairing ; for besides 
the snow, every rain brings down great stones and heaps 
of mud and gravel upon the road, at times with injury 
to passing travellers. Two labourers were busy clear- 
ing away the falls that had come down from a steep 
slope on the right during the morning; hastily shovel- 
ling off the lighter portions, so that at least one-half of 
the road might be free. Each wore a rough uniform, 
and a long canvas apron, with a bib drawn nearly up to 
the throat ; and both had that serious, almost solemn 
look, which to yaur surprise you find to be the cha- 
racteristic expression of the Tyrolese. The notion cer- 
tainly prevails that they are a joyous, music-and-song- 
loving people; but if so, the vivacity lies so deep below 
the surface as to escape observation, even on close ac- 
quaintance. The men told me they were always at 
work, winter and summer, keeping the way open, for 
fifteen florins a month ; out of which they have to live, 
and find their own clothes. In some districts they are 
allowed to cut the grass by the road-side, and sell or use 
it as fodder. But for the bitter winter, said the men, 
they would be well content; and though not easy to 
provide all that was wanted for the cold season out of 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 61 

small wages, they preferred steady labour to migration. 
To a remark I made as to the great quantity of snow 
still lying, they replied that the various falls during the 
past winter amounted altogether to seventy-two feet. 

Presently a broad hollow opens, the road still gently 
rising, and the views around widen. The sky had now 
cleared, the breeze came fresh and lively, and on either 
hand swelled a chorus of many waters, under which 
inspiriting influences I stepped briskly onwards, and 
soon reached the summit, 6200 feet above the sea. 
Here stand, on one side, a tall crucifix, on the other 
two more of the striped posts : Kreisgericht Feldkirch — 
Kreisgericht Oberinnthal, and passing these you leave 
the Vorarlberg and enter Tyrol. The descent begins 
at once ; becomes rapid, and in a few minutes you are 
in the little hamlet of St. Christof — some half-dozen 
houses and a chapel. 

Here it was that Heinrich Findelkind, a foundling 
herdboy, erected a Hospice for the benefit of travellers 
in 1386. The sight of the dead bodies of those who 
had perished in the snow, lying with their flesh torn 
by birds of prey, so affected him, that he devoted him- 
self for the rest of his life to the rescue of wayfarers. 
Beginning with only fifteen florins, ten years' savings, 
he saved seven lives the first winter; and then travel- 
ling on foot to collect alms, he returned with sufficient 
to carry his pious design into execution, and to main- 
tain it afterwards. Fifty individuals owed their lives 
to his self-denying labours, of which the memory has 
been preserved in chronicle and ballad. 



62 ON" FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

As if to heighten the pleasure of going down, the 
scenery is no longer bald and dreary, as on the ascent. 
Now all the tiny threads of water mingling with the 
stream of the infant Rosanna, which will be our com- 
panion for the morrow, are running away to the Inn 
and the dark rolling Danube. Then scattered firs ; 
anon clumps, expanding a little lower into forests; 
and masses of alpine rhododendron, and thousands of 
flowers, among which a profusion of cowslips, butter- 
cups, and forget-me-nots. And ever the grand moun- 
tain country beyond opening into a glorious landscape; 
wild gorges; snow-streaked, weatherbeaten peaks, glow- 
ing with the ruddy beam from the west; and tor- 
rents plunging down the hill-sides, leaping from crag to 
crag in swift surges of foam. There, before me, lay the 
beauty and glory of the mountains ; the sights and 
sounds which, once seen and heard, are never forgotten. 
I was fain to sit down a while, and give myself up to the 
joy and the charm of renewed impressions. 

Higher rise the slopes on either hand as the road de- 
scends with sudden windings into the Stanzerthal, where 
each turn reveals a broader section of the valley, patched 
here and there with sward of so bright a green that it 
seems to shine amid the dark masses of firs, and gives 
you at the threshold a characteristic of the scenery of 
Tyrol. Without these verdant spots, the aspect of the 
forest would be oppressively melancholy. 

Still down. Another bend, and there is the ricketty- 
looking village of St. Anton, where the Post offers a 
comfortable resting-place. Gasthofzur Gemse smdAI- 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 63 

bergo alia Camozza inform the traveller, in two lan- 
guages, that here is the sign of the Chamois. The 
Kellnerinn lost no time in placing before me a small loaf 
and a Halbe of beer, that I might have something to 
amuse myself with while waiting for supper : a Tyrolese 
practice, not unacceptable to the hungry or impatient 
wayfarer. Then followed soup, fricaseed veal, and 
potatoes, all excellent; the nimble maiden wishing 
me "the best of appetite." I began with veal at 
Stuttgart, and scarcely any other meat could I get for 
three weeks. Kalbsbraten was the cry everywhere. 
The bread, being sprinkled with caraways and ani- 
seed, has a peculiar and not very agreeable flavour. 
Up-stairs I found another kind of excellence — a bed- 
room with walls, floor, and furniture all of pine; the 
coverlids and pillows of a large scarlet and white 
chequer pattern, and all beautifully clean. The roar- 
ing Rosanna lulled me to sleep with a noise that I was 
to hear for many nights to come. 

The next morning, Sunday, while waiting at the 
door for my cup of coffee, I saw the villagers going to 
six o'clock mass. Scarcely a soul remained at home; 
and as all were dressed in their best, notwithstanding 
the early hour, there was a display of costume. The 
conical and globular caps, fluffy steeple-crowned hats, 
and red stockings distinguish the women ; the men 
wear a broad band round their hats, terminating in a 
gold fringe and tassel ; velveteen breeches, bright blue 
stockings, or trousers made of leather below the knee, 
and ornamental waistcoats, with the suspenders outside, 



64 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

curiously embroidered. Tall, stalwart fellows, most of 
them ; manly-looking men, of serious countenance, 
arched eyebrows, and sunburnt complexion. It was 
quite refreshing to have got into a region where Paris 
fashions are not yet submitted to. 

The church, when I passed shortly afterwards, was 
thronged, and many were grouped bareheaded round 
the doors. I took off my cap, and stood with them for 
a while. Nearly all had books, and seemed devoutly 
attentive ; when all at once a litany was struck up, 
which produced a perfect gabble, men and women 
alternately. The men, gruff and inarticulate, I could 
not understand ; the women's part began every time 
with " Heilige Maria" — Holy Mary — and ended with 
" Sterbestund" — hour of death ; and curious was the 
effect in the successive repetitions by the different 
voices. And all the while there came the fitful roar 
of a fall from the other side of the valley : some notes 
of Nature's eternal psalm mingling with the hum of 
human worship. 

It is delightful walking down a valley on a breezy 
morning, when the sun shines brightly, and grass and 
flowers and drooping branches twinkle with dewdrops, 
and the damp shadows slant across the road, and the 
sky rounds the landscape in with a blue deeper and 
more transparent than we ever see overhead in our own 
island-home. The trees increase in number and variety ; 
cultivation becomes more fruitful; the river widens and 
brawls down a succession of rapids and cascades, where 
in places the rocky sides come so near together as to- 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 65 

leave space only for the road. Now a hamlet; now a 
village; now a few scattered hovels, and meadows in 
which the impaled haycocks look like tall beehives. 
Log-houses are numerous at Petnen, and the few 
cottages built of stone are painted at the corners to 
represent the ends of logs piled one above another. 
Nearly every mile you see a crucifix by the road-side ; 
and small pictures set up on a short staff level with the 
eye are frequent. On the first of these was a woman 
kneeling before an angel, who responds (literally) — 

wanderer ! stand thou still. 
Hear what I of thee will. 

Farther on, in an oratory, there is a painting, the 
lower half of which represents a sea of flames tossing 
two men and two women, who, with clasped hands and 
agonized look, call on the Christ seen above, " Ah ! 
help us, we pray thee, O Friend !" 

I met scarcely a soul during the two hours' walk to 
Fiirsch. Here the nine o'clock mass was going on, 
and I joined the throng round the church-door, who 
stood listening in profound silence to a prayer. No 
sooner was it concluded than a lively polka was com- 
menced on the organ and kept up for ten minutes; and 
uncommonly well played too, considering the instru- 
ment. I could see a slight sympathetic movement in 
the crowd keeping time with the sprightly cadence, 
which, judging by their composure, was quite a matter 
of course, though to me such an interlude in a church 
service was a surprise. Then for five minutes the 

F 



66 ON FOOT THROUGH TYEOL. 

priest intoned, with organ responses, and a long prayer 
followed. I went on to breakfast at the Post-house, 
where, besides the sign of the Grapes, a handsome 
painting of the Virgin appears over the door, termi- 
nated by the words Sub tuum presidium. It was 
the first time I had seen such a religious demonstration 
on the part of an innkeeper. The open casements 
were covered with a screen of wire gauze, to keep out 
the flies, which hover about in such swarms as to be a 
real torment, especially while you are eating. The 
chairs and sofa, much too tall for me to sit on with 
comfort, were, perhaps, constructed only for natives, 
many of whom came in as soon as the mass was over, 
each one wishing me " a good appetite " as he entered. 
There were three services in the day, said the land- 
lord, when we had talked a little, at six, nine, and one, 
the last a half-hour only ; after which, " the people let 
another half-hour go by, and then they can go to the 
Wirthshaus, and play at cards or ninepins for all the 
rest of the day." Here, at all events, the Sunday 
question appeared to be settled. 

Going on again, I met a train of the long, narrow 
wagons drawn by six or eight horses each, which carry 
on the " goods traffic" of the country, from the plains of 
Italy to the German frontier, crossing the Adlerberg 
and the Brenner, creeping laboriously up the hills, and 
checked on the descent by the powerful break which is 
made to press on the two hind wheels. The cogged 
wheels and winch that regulate the pressure are kept in 
good working order, for Tyrolese hills are not to be 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 67 

trifled with. Some of the winches have handles of 
highly polished brass. In the most critical places, in- 
dicated by a shoe painted on a white board by the road- 
side, the drag is used as well as the break. 

On the walls of many of the cottages you see a rudely- 
drawn outline of a fiddle and bow — a sign that within 
are manufactured those cheap violins which are sold all 
over Europe, if not all over the world, for a few shillings. 
Employment for the long, cheerless winter months. In 
some of the villages on the Bavarian frontier there are 
factories where the instruments are fabricated in large 
numbers. 

The Rosanna, which we saw yesterday a wimpling 
brook, is here a thundering cataract, heard afar. Down 
it shoots to a hundred feet below the road, there to meet 
an island and hiss and rage in deeper plunges. A tor- 
rent leaps in on the right, falling on a rock from which 
it rebounds in a graceful foaming curve to the river. I 
sat down under the shade of a clump of firs opposite 
to gaze on a scene that fascinated the eye as well as the 
ear ; and gratified another sense by the wild straw- 
berries that grew plentifully on the bank. There is 
something to me inexpressibly refreshing in the mighty 
roar of a river after months of the roar of a great city. 

Next we come to the ruined castle of Wiesberg 
crowning a steep hill at the entrance of the Paznauner- 
thal, where our noisy river's impetuosity is quickened 
by the pouring in of the rapid Trisanna. The Paznaun 
valley down which it flows is the route I should have 
followed had I crossed the Zeinis from the Montavoner- 

f2 



68 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

thai. The road, lying deep under tall cliffs and pre- 
cipitous slopes, is said to be dangerous in places during 
rainy weather. Your eye will trace its windings for a 
short distance along the rugged side of the wooded de- 
file ; and the sight will, perhaps, inspire you with a 
wish to explore it. Among other peculiarities you 
would see in the bone-house of the church at Ischgl — 
the chief place of the valley — rows of skulls, with the 
names of the former owners printed on the forehead in 
gold letters. To get to the castle you must descend a 
steep path and mount a steeper, and then, though you 
have a new and striking point of view, you will find 
but little of interest in the ancient building. Part of 
it is tenanted by a peasant family, who cultivate their 
garden under the walls. 

Now the two streams united form the Sanna, rushing 
along deep below the road. Another mile, and at a 
sudden bend round an overhanging crag, you get a 
glorious view for miles down the valley of the Inn — 
mountain beyond mountain on either hand, and the 
magnificent cone of the Tschurgant rising in the central 
distance, where brilliant snowy peaks shoot from cloud- 
like masses of red and purple — one of those scenes that 
become a part of your being for ever. 

" I feel the heart within me dance and sing 
Oft as at morn I see the mountains blue." 

And the valley itself is a picture : villages, houses, 
and churches scattered along its floor or perched on the 
slopes, among pear and apple orchards, thickets and 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 69 

hedges of blushing barberry, and broad fields of maize, 
all basking in the genial sunshine. The river, too, 
leaving its fury behind, flows through the rich pastures 
with a sobered current to join the Inn a few miles 
below. 

On through this cheerful landscape, and another hour 
brings you to Landeck, a large village, which, with its 
signs of life and fifteen hundred inhabitants, might pre- 
tend to be a town. While crossing the Inn, which here 
comes rushing down from Finstermunz and the Enga- 
dine, you see the castles of Kronburg, Landeck, and 
Schrofenstein, and the steep wooded heights which 
make the situation picturesque. Around here, too, are 
historical sites, as we shall presently discover, of last- 
ing interest : consecrated to liberty by the blood of the 
patriot. 

The Post was thronged with guests and swarming 
with flies : the walls and floor of the first two rooms I 
entered were literally black with the familiar insects, 
which buzzed unmolested about the faces of the pea- 
sants and villagers who sat drinking. Two o'clock had 
struck, and now they (the men) were free to enjoy 
themselves if they could. The landlord beckoned me 
into an inner room, where but a faint gleam of daylight 
being admitted it was possible to dine without irritation. 
While resting here for three hours till the fierce heat 
had somewhat abated, I read in the Allgemeine Zeitung 
an account of the riots in Hyde Park on the previous 
Sunday ; and was not a little amused at the grave con- 
clusions, the boding tokens which the German editor 



70 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

drew from that demonstration in favour of fair-play on 
the part of the Londoners. The downfall of England 
could not be otherwise than imminent. The editor of 
a Trieste paper, in his remarks on the question, recom- 
mended British statesmen to think about lessening the 
wide interval which separates the highest and lowest 
classes of those for whom they legislate ; and held up 
the social usages of Austria as a pattern. The Sunday's 
recreation in the Prater, where distinction of class is all 
but imperceptible, compensates the people of Vienna 
for their week's labour. What said Goethe? — 

" Tages Arbeit; Abends Gaste, 
Saure Woche, frohe Feste," 

The zealous writer chose to ignore the insurrection of 
those same happy people of Vienna not so very many 
years ago; as also the abundant means offered to the 
working-classes in England for their elevation, and 
which they care not to use. If the many are unwilling, 
the few alone cannot remove social distinctions. 

But this is a digression. I took a stroll through the 
village : all the population seemed to be out of doors, 
grouped, wherever house or tree threw a shadow; 
children frolicking, women laughing and chatting, men 
smoking, and watching the ninepin players. A few 
white-headed patriarchs sat apart and smoked their 
pipes with long-drawn puffs, that disturbed not their 
repose. The church stands on a pleasant eminence, and 
tells you its history in a few paintings on the walls. Six 
hundred years ago, two children were carried off by a 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 71 

bear and a wolf; the affrighted parents ran with ago- 
nizing supplications to " Our Lady of the darksome 
forest," who was then worshipped on this spot, and 
vowed to build thereon a church, if she listened to their 
prayers. Their beseeching was not in vain, for the 
animals brought back the children, and dropped them 
unharmed before their father and mother. So a little 
church was built, and pilgrims came to it for many 
years, until it was replaced in 1506 by the present edifice. 
One day, in 1415, an aged wandering minstrel tot- 
tered into Landeck, and placing his harp under the 
lime-trees near the church, he drew his fingers sadly 
across the strings. Though in beggar's garb his mien 
is noble : his ragged cloak and hoary locks excite pity. 
The villagers gather round him. He strikes with a 
firmer hand, and begins to sing of a land where the 
mountains rise aloft in glory, where the valleys teem 
with abundance, where the peasant and his field were 
once alike free, but where, through strife and feud, both 
people and land are now enslaved. Their prince a 
fugitive and a beggar, wanders in obscurity. Then, 
changing his mood : " Shall such things be ?" he sings 
amain ; u as of yore, O people, arise ! Awake, father- 
land, awake I " 

" The old man sang. Then circled gladly, 

From ear to ear a whispered name ; 
While paused the gray old harper sadly 

Who kindled up the eager flame. 
And thinking on their own oppression, 

They grasp their sword, and clench their hand : 
And all demand with fierce expression — 

Name thou the prince, and name the land ! 



72 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

" And shall I name the land — the nation? 

Do not your hearts within you speak, 
Nor feel the shame of desecration 

Burn in the soil, and in your cheek ? 
And name the prince ? Behold the singer ! 

Look in his eye ! — in tattered stole 
Before you stands— can douht yet linger? 

A heggar — Friedrich von Tirol." * 

The minstrel was the same Frederick whom we read 
of at Bludenz; his contemporaries knew him, and he is 
still remembered as Friedrich Empty-pocket; but the 
people loved him well, and soon after the incident re- 
corded in the song, he was seated at Innsbruck, Duke 
of Tyrol in reality as well as name. 

Some of the footpaths winding away into the woods 
look inviting ; one must not, however^ attempt 'too 
much when the thermometer marks 90°. But for 
that, I should have climbed up to the Schrofenstein for 
the sake of the view. There was once wine of four 
hundred years old in the cellar, which the visitor was 
permitted to taste as a reward for his labour; but the 
uninvited Bavarians drank all that was left some fifty 
years ago. 

* Otte tells the whole story in the ballad commencing " Zu LandecJc 
tritt, die Harf' im Arme," 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 73 



CHAPTER IV. 

The Upper Inn Valley — Pious Salute — A Gap in the Road — Memorials 
of Calamity — Twilight — The Pontlatzer Bridge — A Reminiscence of 
1703 — An Amhuscade — The War of Independence — A National Foot- 
hall — Scandalous Usage — The Cow-heads — An Insurrection — "Ways 
and Means — Preparations for the Enemy — " 'T is time " — The Out- 
break — Capture of Innsbruck — Enthusiastic Triumph of the Peasants 
— Restoration of Plunder — The Enemy again — New Efforts — Another 
Triumph— The Fatal Pass — A Detachment made Prisoners — Prutz — 
Ried — Sunday Evening Guests — Tosens — Work and Wages— Price of 
Land — " What shall I do with the Sheep ?" — Pfunds — Leisurely Tra- 
velling — A New Road — The Lofty Arch — Pass of Finstermunz — 
Grand Scenery — A Torrent of Stones — The Fortress — Nauders — A 
Cabinet-maker — The Blind Sculptor — Naudersburg — The Snowy Sum- 
mits — Ober Yintschgau — Source of the Etsch— Many Crucifixes — A 
Crown of Thorns — A Friar — The Yellow Wirthshaus — A Tramping 
Tailor — Prayer before Supper — The Ortler Spitz. 

Three great highways meet at Landeck, from 
Bregenz, Innsbruck, and Milan. I took the latter, and 
started at six in the evening to walk another stage. 
The road, hewn out of the rocks which form the right 
bank of the Inn, runs close to the river, an almost unin- 
terrupted ascent for miles. On the ledges high above 
my head I could see narrow footpaths, short cuts to 
the mountain pastures ; and in the War of Independence 
in 1809, for swift-footed scouts and messengers. We 
shall come ere long to the scenes of heroic struggles. 



74 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

Most of the Tyrolese valleys are narrow, not a 
musket-shot in width, as invaders have often found to 
their cost, and this of the Upper Inn is no exception; 
the crags in many places overhang the river. The 
signs of human life and habitation are too few to relieve 
the gloomy pine woods and savage cliffs; the cots and 
small patches of meadow seem rather to heighten the 
solitude. A woman who was washing her supper- 
salad in a spring, saluted me with " Gelobt sei Jesus 
Christus"* as I passed, to which I answered, " Good 
evening," not having then learnt that the proper re- 
sponse would be, " In Ewigkeit, Amen."] Many times 
was I greeted with the same salutation afterwards. 

In one place the furious river had washed out a huge 
morsel the whole width of the road, and a breakwater 
constructed of branches and logs, hastily felled on the 
heights above, had been put down to prevent further 
mischief. The thoroughfare was kept open by a track 
scooped out from the slope above, an awkward place to 
come upon after dark. The memory of accidents is 
preserved by little pictures fastened to the rock or a 
stake. One informs you of a death from a falling tree, 
another by drowning, and you see the effigies of the 
men on their knees, with green jackets, broad belts, 
velveteen breeches, and blue stockings, precisely as in 
life. 

There was yet light enough for me to see the view up 
and down the valley, when I came to the statue of the 
Bohemian saint, John of Nepomuck, which stands at a 

* Praised be Jesus Christ. f For ever and ever, Amen. , 



Otf FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 75 

commanding point. Mighty peaks were in sight, all 
aglow as they watched the sunset. Twilight came on 
rapidly, deepening the gloom beneath the fir-trees almost 
to darkness; and in the evening silence, the roar of the 
river became impressive. The scene and the circum- 
stances alike disposed to thoughtfulness. 

At the Pontlatzer bridge, the road, stopped by the 
wall of rock, crosses to the left bank. As I leant for a 
few minutes, looking from side to side, and down at the 
swift stream, I saw how well the wild spot is suited 
for defence. When, in 1703, the Elector Maximilian 
Emanuel sent a detachment of three hundred men, 
French dragoons and Bavarian grenadiers, with de- 
spatches for Marshal de Vendome in Italy, they found, 
on arriving at this grim gateway, no means of crossing. 
Six hundred brave peasants, forewarned by the warden 
of a neighbouring village, had carried away the bridge, 
and converted it into a breastwork on the hill-side. 
"Treason !" cried the Marquis de Nouvion, forced to 
halt with his troop, and commanded a retreat. But it 
was too late. The Tyrolese, firing from behind the 
breastwork and the crags overlooking the place, brought 
down an enemy at every shot ; and trees, rocks, and 
volleys of stones hurled from the heights, swept numbers 
into the river. Soon more than half of the three hun- 
dred were slain and drowned, and the rest finding their 
retreat so rudely harassed, fell on their knees and begged 
for quarter. They declared afterwards, that half a 
dozen engagements in the open field w r ould have been 
less to be dreaded than such another skirmish. The mar- 



76 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

quis, with some of his lieutenants and a score of men, 
succeeded in escaping from the fray, and rode with 
loose rein back through Landeck to cross the Inn at 
Zams. But there also the bridge had been removed, 
and the fugitives were made prisoners. This was one 
of the most noteworthy events of a campaign which 
purged Tyrol of its invaders. The affair having been 
planned at Landeck, the village has been named by a 
patriotic writer the Tyrolese Griitli. A golden beaker 
is still preserved and used on memorable occasions, 
which Kaiser Leopold presented to the Landeckers in 
acknowledgment of their energetic proceedings. 

Again, within the present century, did this valley of 
the Inn prove fatal to the invader, the first success being 
as it were but the rehearsal of a second on a greater 
scale. The struggle for freedom in 1809, with its 
fierce enthusiasm and heroic incidents, its triumphs and 
disasters, appeals strongly to the sympathies of all who 
hold liberty as their birthright. Let us, while pacing 
slowly along the bank of the darkening river, recall a 
few passages to memory. 

Tyrol, sharing the fate of some other small states, has 
often been treated as a football by its powerful neigh- 
bours, but has always remained devotedly loyal to 
Austria. When Napoleon was playing his great game 
with king and kaiser, he thought for a moment of 
uniting the mountain province with Switzerland; but 
by the treaty of Presburg, in 1805, Tyrol was once 
more, and for the third time, kicked over to Bavaria, 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL- 77 

whose rule was the more hated at each return ; and 
the land was occupied by French and Bavarian troops. 
The latter outraged the sensibilities of the Tyrolese on 
the tenderest points — their faith and usages : they sup- 
pressed monasteries and confiscated the revenues. Hof- 
stetten, who stormed the Capuchin convent at Meran, 
once walked into church with his hat on and smoking 
his pipe; and at an auction of the sacred vessels and 
vestments, he hung the chasuble on the backs of Jews, 
and chased them round the room with his cane, and 
defiled the chalice in a way not to be mentioned. He 
invited priests to breakfast, and scandalized them by 
his debaucheries. Murmurs were checked by wanton 
military executions, or transportation to Elba ; and the 
usurpers boasted that a few squadrons sufficed to keep 
down the whole people. 

Grim feelings began to rankle. The Tyrolese pea- 
santry thought it time to trust to themselves, for notles 
and famous captains had been unable to stay the con- 
queror. With good commanders, said the plainspoken 
mountain-folk, the case would have been different; and 
hearing the numerous names of officers ending in vich 
— Davidovich, Poppovich, Quosdanovich, and others 
— they cried, playing on the word vich, " In Heaven's 
name, another cow ! We shall have nothing but cow- 
heads." At length, in 1808, when Napoleon had the 
war in the Peninsula on his hands, an insurrection was 
organized. Tyrol would again strike a blow and offer 
herself as a bulwark for Austria : 



78 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

" Sn unfcrtt SSergen ftmcfyji ctn fSaum, 
£mg{ Sreu' fur ©o« unb Gaffer, 
S)a fcrtdfrt Strol jum (^renfranj, 
£)te tmmergrututt SRdfer," 

sang the people, with blind attachment. 

The rising once planned, means were forthwith taken 
to insure its success. Every Austrian province lent 
troops and promised reserves. Spirit-stirring songs 
were written and distributed; a South-German Plu- 
tarch was published ; and scarce a valley but put for- 
ward a leader. None were traitors; but any among 
the peasants known to be indiscreet, or to talk in their 
cups, were sent away to the mountain chalets. In de- 
fiance of the Bavarian law, the number of public-houses 
was increased, as tavern-keepers could lay in stores and 
forage without exciting undue suspicion; and so con- 
siderable supplies of powder and lead were provided. 
Hofer and other leaders had money conveyed to them 
for keeping up the Sunday shooting-matches. Trusty 
messengers who knew all the paths from valley to 
valley were appointed. Dwellers near streams had to 
maintain roads and bridges to facilitate the passage of 
Austrian troops, and were furnished with tools to break 
down and destroy when the enemy appeared. Others 
had charge of the beacon-fires, and of the signals to be 
conveyed by throwing blood, or charcoal, or sawdust 
into the rivers. The completion of the arrangements 
was favoured by the unanimity of the people; the 
cause was national, and their courage rose in proportion 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 79 

to the danger. The old Teutonic spirit woke up — 
brave in the hour of trial and stubborn to resist. So 
well was the secret kept that many of the highest Aus- 
trian functionaries knew nothing of it till the outbreak 
took place ; and when everything was planned, the pea- 
sants returned to their houses, and wintered their cattle, 
waiting in quiet the moment for action. 

Tyrol being one great network of defiles, ravines, 
gorges, and valleys, each of which has its torrent or 
river, and a road or path shifting from side to side, is 
possessed of formidable capabilities for offensive or de- 
fensive war. From Bavaria it is comparatively easy for an 
enemy to penetrate as far as Innsbruck, but not farther. 
The valley of the Drave, or Pusterthal, is the main 
approach from Carinthia, and that of the Adige from 
Italy. Unless an invader can keep his communications 
open from one to the other, he can have no assurance 
of conquest. 

The preparations were recommenced with the earliest 
melting of the snow in 1809. Mountain passes were 
fortified in such a way as experience in daily conflict 
with rude nature had shown to be the best. Wherever 
a blow could be successfully struck, there breastworks 
of logs and stakes filled in with earth and moss were 
constructed on the heights, and large stones laid on the 
top ready to be pushed over at the critical moment : an 
operation frequently left to women and children, while 
the men harassed the enemy by their unerring rifles. 
Large flats of wicker-work filled with stones were ba- 
lanced on the edges of cliffs, where, by the chopping of 



80 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

the withes that held them, they tilted up and dis- 
charged their contents. Tree-stems, piled three or four 
together in places overlooking the road, were similarly 
prepared ; and slides, such as those used for sending 
down timber from the slopes inaccessible by roads, 
were now employed for the deadly purposes of war. 
Built to command important points, a bridge, for ex- 
ample, or the bend of a gorge, and kept watered by a 
rill streaming from top to bottom, trunks of pines or 
rocks could be shot down them with incredible velocity ; 
and thus an appliance of industry became a formidable 
means of thinning the enemy's ranks. In this way the 
bridge at the entrance of the Zillerthal was menaced ; and 
of the huge pile of stems felled in readiness, three were 
placed in the slide held only by a wedge till the word 
was given to let go. The crash, the whirl, and rushing 
uproar of such missiles struck dismay into the troops 
on whose heads they descended. Cann6*n-balls were 
less terrible. 

On the night of the 9th of April a division of Aus- 
trian troops began to advance along the valley of the 
Drave : fires blazed on the hill-tops, and bells pealing 
from one end of the land to the other, announced the 
day of deliverance. The march of the troops was an 
ovation ; thousands thronged to hail their approach, 
waving green branches ; women held their children 
aloft to see the warriors, and many rushed forward to 
kiss their horses or their boots. Proclamations were 
scattered broadcast in every valley ; and women and 
children carried little billets from house to house, on 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 81 

which were written the significant words, u 's ist Zeit" 
— 'Tis time. The men of the Passeyrthal gathered 
round their Sandwirth, Hofer, and marched five thou- 
sand strong over the JaufFen, to intercept the foe on his 
way from Brixen to the Brenner. The peasants came 
down on Sterzing Moss, pushing wagons laden with 
hay before them, from behind which they picked off 
the Bavarian gunners and officers, and forced a bat- 
talion to lay down their arms. A girl who tended one 
of the wagons danced and capered at every shot, crying, 
" Fear not the Bavarian smoke-pellets !" Not a man 
but showed himself fearless and elevated under the 
influence of the sentiment — 

" Who for fatherland die 
Their souls are on high." 

On the 10th of April, sawdust and blood, and small 
boards decked with the national flag, were seen floating 
on the river Inn, and the people of the valley flew to 
arms. The Bavarians began to feel uneasy ; and orders 
were issued from their head-quarters in Innsbruck to 
shoot on the spot all persons found armed, and to burn 
down any village that showed signs of discontent. A 
dozen or two of executions, they thought, would strike a 
wholesome terror, and show who was master in the land. 
On the morning of the 11th, all the heights round Inns- 
bruck were occupied by fifteen thousand peasants, who 
drove in the Bavarian pickets, and resolutely advancing 
the next day, seized the bridge and suburbs, hemming 
in the enemy with a deadly fire. Wild with excitement, 

G 



82 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

they shouted the pig-call to the Bavarians, and replied 
to their cannon-shots by waving of hats, leaping, and 
singing. From every roof and tower they fired down 
on the detested invaders ; and watching their oppor- 
tunity, made a sudden rush and captured the cannon. 
At nine o'clock they were in the city, and by noon the 
fighting was over. In less than forty-eight hours after 
the publication of those orders which were to convince 
the people of their folly in mistrusting a u friendly " 
neighbour, the city capitulated, and eight thousand 
French and Bavarians laying down their arms, sur- 
rendered at discretion, with their eagles, their colours, 
and munitions of war ; while of the Tyrolese there were 
but twenty-six killed and forty-two wounded. The ca- 
valry took to flight, but were stopped and made prisoners 
by Speckbacher in the meadows near Hall. Dittfurt, 
the Bavarian commander, fell mortally wounded, his 
dying moments exasperated by hearing that the Tyro- 
lese had no leader. " All had alike fought for God, the 
emperor, and fatherland," was the answer to his in- 
quiry : " one for all, and all for one." He remained 
incredulous, affirming that he had seen the peasant 
chief mounted on a white horse ; and the news of this 
hallucination spreading among the people, they believed 
that St. Jacob, the patron saint of Innsbruck, had fought 
for them, and could hardly contain their enthusiasm. 

The city was no sooner won than the peasants, hasten- 
ing to the Court Church, took down the Austrian eagle 
from Maximilian's tomb, tied a red riband round its 
neck, and set it up in triumph on the Post-bureau of 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 83 

the Taxis palace. Hundreds thronged to kiss " the dear 
old bird," with tears in their eyes, and happy was he 
who could prolong his embrace. Their joy became 
extravagant : they leaped, shouted, danced, and fired 
volley on volley of musketry. They found the portraits 
of the Emperor — Franzl — and of the Archduke John — 
Hannes — and testified their love and loyalty by equally 
noisy demonstrations at sight of the venerated features. 
They assembled in front of the Imperial Palace, and shot 
down the Bavarian lion from over the entrance ; and 
wherever the blue and white stripes were seen, the 
colours of the hated invaders, painters were set to cover 
them with the Imperial black and yellow. And then, 
to celebrate their victory, having no other instruments 
than two fifes, two fiddles, two rusty iron pot-lids for 
cymbals, and a few Jews' -harps, the Bavarian band were 
made to play triumphal music over their own defeat. 

From all parts of the country came news of success ; 
and the discovery that Napoleon's eagles could be con- 
quered, was as much a cause of wonder as of exultation. 
A panic seized the enemy. Women, one of whom 
carried a captured eagle on her hayfork, escorted a 
troop of French prisoners to Salzburg. Men could not 
be spared ; for being the spring season, they had to 
hurry from the battle-field to the plough, and from 
tillage to skirmishing, with the briefest delay. It was a 
holy war, and for the people, who, spilling none but 
enemy's blood, would not disgrace their cause by the foul 
crimes of common hostilities A few of the Innsbruck 
Jews were pillaged, and some other excesses committed 
G2 



84 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

in the first burst of excitement ; but the plunder was in 
many cases restored. A peasant of Fulpmes, in the 
Stubay valley, carried off the heavy iron door of a Jew's 
strong-room, and with plodding endurance bore it to his 
home, a walk of fourteen hours. But the next day, on 
being reproved by the priest, he took the ponderous 
load again on his shoulders, and trudged patiently back 
to the place from whence he had taken it, and made 
restitution. 

Kuffstein was the only place that remained in pos- 
session of the French at the end of April. But with 
the varying fortune of war, the Austrians were defeated 
at Worgl on the 13th of May, and on the 19th the 
Bavarians were again masters of Innsbruck. On the 
31st they were once more driven out by the furious 
valour of the Tyrolese. In July, the diplomatic wires 
having been pulled, the armistice of Znaym was pro- 
claimed, and the Austrian army withdrew from Tyrol. 
The peasantry, angered at the turn of affairs, resolved to 
trust to themselves : their mode of fighting was quite 
contrary to the tactics of troops of the line ; one im- 
peded the other, and they always succeeded best when 
left to their own resources. They turned out thirty 
thousand strong, and chose Hofer leader by acclamation. 
From their mountain heights they watched every move- 
ment of the enemy in the valley below ; and by their 
knowledge of the country sometimes cut off detachments 
in two different valleys on the same day. The scouts 
would go out with a bag of maize on their shoulder for 
all provision; if fire was to be had, they cooked it; 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 85 

if not, they ate it raw. They could sleep in a pine 
clump ; under a rock ; in a crevice — anywhere for the 
sake of faith and fatherland. Not a peasant would act 
as guide or spy for the invader ; threats were tried in 
vain ; some were shot or stabbed for their refusal. Old 
men and women, left alone in the houses, put on an air 
of great stupidity when questioned, and answered all 
inquiries by, " / woass nit " — I don't know. 

On the last day of July, Lefebvre, Duke of Dantzig ? 
rode into Innsbruck at the head of a French army. At 
once his communications with the south by the route 
of the Brenner were stopped ; his best troops were 
crushed and shot down in the grim defiles of the valley 
of the Eisack. He himself failed to force the passage, 
and on the 13th, brought to bay at Berg Isel, he, with 
his army of 25,000, was defeated by 18,000 Tyrolese. 
Three times within four months did the peasantry drive 
out the invading legions, and regain possession of their 
capital. 

It was during the fierce contests along the route of 
the Brenner, in August, that Lefebvre, disregarding 
the warning of the Bavarians, who had not forgotten 
their former disaster, resolved to send a detachment up 
the valley of the Inn, from thence to descend the 
Vintschgau, and fall on the rear of Hofer, who lay en- 
camped near Sterzing. Burscheidt and Vassereau had 
the command ; and on the afternoon of the 8th they 
passed the Pontlatzer bridge with a column of 1400 
men — not ten thousand, as is commonly printed — and 
advanced towards Prutz, a village about a mile beyond. 



86 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

Suddenly an alarm rang out from the church tower, 
and as the troops were crossing a meadow, about fifty 
peasants began to fire from the heights of Ladis. 
Storming parties were sent against them, and failed; 
for the keen marksmen picked them off as they ap- 
proached. Meanwhile, women mounted the cliffs and 
hurled down stones ; night came on ; the guard left to 
secure the bridge was overpowered, and their gun 
captured ; and advance or retreat was alike cut off. 
The troops bivouacked for the night in the meadow, 
and were preparing for further demonstrations the next 
morning, when the villagers, whose numbers had in- 
creased, out of patience with a desultory fire at long 
range, armed themselves with axes, clubs, spears, and 
scythe-blades, and charging suddenly while the sharp- 
shooters poured in their fire, the enemy hoisted the white 
flags and surrendered — 700 foot and 150 horse. Most 
of the staff officers had escaped at the first check, and 
retreated on the previous day, preceded by Vassereau 
himself, who was the first to carry the news of his 
defeat to Innsbruck. The total loss in killed and pri- 
soners was twenty-five officers, twelve hundred men, 
and one hundred and seventy horses : the more remark- 
able when compared with the handful of peasants to 
whom it was due. Of all the ambuscades, however, 
that in the gorge of the Eisack was the most formi- 
dable and the most destructive, as may perhaps be ex- 
plained when we arrive on the spot. 

I traversed the fatal meadow, passed under the heights 
of Ladis — famed for medicinal springs — and crossed 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 87 

the river once more at Prutz. Darkness hid the land- 
scape ; the frogs croaked ; the wind blew chill ; and deep 
and solemn sounded the roar of the stream through the 
evening's stillness as I walked on to Ried. On entering 
the Post the change was striking. TheKellnerinn showed 
me into a large room (the Gastkammer), where the long 
table was crowded with guests of both sexes, finishing 
their Sunday with a supper of cakes, bread, salad and 
sausages, beer and wine; all apparently in the best of 
spirits. A continual round of jokes and laughter was 
kept up, the ladies not less noisy than their companions. 
A dense cloud of tobacco-smoke filled the room nearly 
to the floor, and compelled me, in spite of my wish to 
see what was going on, to a hasty retreat, and I had to 
sup in my bedroom. Among the sacred emblems 
hanging on the wall, I was somewhat surprised to see 
three English engravings : Betsy in Trouble, The Fa- 
vourite Rabbit, and Tom and his Pidgeons. 

When I started the next morning the glaciers of the 
Kaunserthal glittered before me under a cloudless sky. 
The hills about here being bare, with a chalky aspect, 
there was nothing to relieve the already fervid heat, 
and I was tempted once to stray up a side valley to the 
shelter of a fir-wood. Near Tosens a gang of men were 
digging up large granite boulders from the road-side, to 
be used in the building of two new bridges at the end 
of the village, and with the usual friendly " Guten 
Tag" they asked me for news from the Krim. Their 
sympathies were not on the Muscovite side. Was it 
true, they inquired with some earnestness, that the 



88 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

Russians had landed in England ? and my answer, 
"Not true, nor likely to be," called forth a general 
" So ! it yet goes well." Then we had a little talk 
about work and wages, in the course of which they 
came to the conclusion, by questions as to prices, that 
English workmen's savings would scarcely exceed their 
own. They did not think much of being able to buy 
meat and books: for reading there was no time, and 
for meat little need, seeing that they were strong and 
hearty without it. Some of their acquaintances had 
once emigrated to America, but sent home such very 
dismal accounts of their over-sea experiences, that no 
one felt inclined to follow. I did my best to confirm 
them in their attachment to fatherland, and cautioned 
them against seeking fortune beyond the Atlantic. 
The price of land about Tosens is forty-two kreutzers 
the klafter. The meadows yield two crops a year : the 
first in July, the second in September. 

As an example of how little the thought of animal 
food is entertained over great part of the Continent, 
an incident may be mentioned that occurred to an 
English agriculturist travelling in Silesia. Observing 
the centre of a rye-field bare of crop, the soil apparently 
too light for grain, " Why," he inquired, " not try to 
grow turnips, and tread it into closer texture by feeding 
off with sheep?" 

" I might do that," was the farmer's answer ; " but 
what am I to do afterwards with the sheep ?" 

While I was eating my second breakfast at Pfunds, 
the Stellwagen, from Landeck, arrived, and though 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 89 

ten had but just struck, all the passengers alighted to 
dine. They made themselves comfortable ; for no im- 
patient driver broke in upon them with a quick sum- 
mons to start, and they ate, and talked, and took their 
ease, just as passengers did on the journey from London 
to Oxford a hundred years ago. To witness this was 
like getting a peep back into the olden time. And here, 
as in all the villages, the tradesmen's signs, with their 
pictures of heaped measures of meal, loaves of bread, 
candles, sausages, jugs, brushes, and so forth, appealing 
to the eye in a double sense, will remind you that a 
custom long past in England is yet present in Tyrol. 

The broad open bridge beyond Pfunds shows you a 
good specimen of timber-work, and of the precautions 
taken against the destructive influences of weather. 
Even the beams on which the floor is laid are capped 
with small, neat shingles to throw off the drip. Now 
begins an interesting part of our walk. Leaving the 
old track, you cross to the new road, rising by a gradual 
slope to a considerable height above the river. Austria 
being so hilly a country, road-making in the hands of 
her engineers has perforce become a science, and this 
pass of the Finstermiinz is an admirable example of 
their skill. Hewn and blasted for the most part out of 
a stubborn granite precipice, the evidence left on the 
exposed surfaces of the prodigious masses that have 
been removed offers you something to wonder at in 
the results of well-directed labour, as well as in the 
scenery. No pains are spared to ensure safety and du- 
rability. Wherever the soil is loose, a solid wall of 



90 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

granite blocks is built up, and the slope above is re- 
duced till its angle is no longer dangerous. The fre- 
quent springs are rendered harmless by drains, and a 
free passage is left for the torrents that rush down the 
ravines and chasms from the mountain above. While 
passing these you will observe corresponding gaps in 
the opposite hills. 

Up, still up ! the valley narrows ; the roar of the 
river becomes less and less audible; the mighty cliff 
overhangs your head, and at last you come to a point 
where the projecting crags, pierced to open a passage, 
bestride the road as huge arched buttresses. If the 
cool spring which here tumbles into a basin does not 
tempt you to halt, the view will, embracing as it does 
the valley to the rear, its mountain-slopes striped by 
devious footpaths, and enlivened by human habitations 
nestling here and there among the trees, and the swift 
stream flashing and foaming along its tortuous channel. 

Here the masons were still at work, finishing the 
parapet of a magnificent arch, bearing the date 1854 
on its keystone, by which the road is carried across a 
wide ravine. The width (so the foreman told me) was 
ten klafters and a half, but he had forgotten the height, 
which, measuring by the eye, I judged to be about two 
hundred feet. At the fourth and last tunnel, or gallery, 
the hills rise precipitously, and are so near together that 
you may well fancy they have only sundered a few feet 
to leave a way for the river, of which, though so far 
aloft, you faintly hear the complaining as it chafes and 
plunges through the rocky barrier, to begin its course 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 91 

of a hundred miles through Tyrol. You look down on 
the old road, the narrow covered bridge, the ancient 
tower and gateway, and the Wirthshaus, well known to 
travellers; and henceforth a thoroughfare used from the 
days of Kaiser Max will be neglected for the route 
which, avoiding the gulf and the difficulty of climbing 
out of it, commands the widest prospect. The scenery 
around is savagely grand. Peaks, crags, and wild 
mountain-slopes, broken by wilder gorges, frowning in 
spite of the sunshine, hem you in, and overawe you by 
their impressive features. 

The road still rising makes another bend; another 
reach of the valley opens, and presently you come to a 
new and commodious tavern, three thousand feet above 
the sea level ; and this, as the inscription over the door 
tells you, is Hoch Finstermunz. A large opening has 
been blasted in the rock to make room for the spacious 
outbuildings, and a garden is laid out on an artificial 
slope — with what success remains to be seen — for nu- 
merous are the visitors attracted by the fame of this 
grand Alpine defile. 

A mile farther, and coming to where the road turns 
away from the valley of the Inn, looking up the course 
of the stream you feel tempted to follow the smugglers' 
footpaths to its recesses among the hills, and over into 
the Engadine, where you may hear the Romansch dia- 
lect spoken, and see lively demonstrations of Protest- 
antism. We shall not be far from the frontier for the 
next day or two. I was brought to a halt at the turn 
by a continuous fall of roots, gravel, and large lumps of 



92 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

rock upon the road, where they lay in heaps or bounded 
over the precipice. Something the matter on the moun- 
tain, I thought ; but a boy seeing me approach, bade 
me stand still, blew a shrill whistle, and shouted a long- 
drawn, peculiar cry. The hill-slope was being reduced 
to a safe angle by a party of labourers, who on hearing 
the signal, paused in their task. The fall ceased, and 
passing on I saw them far above my head, with spade 
and mattock uplifted, and falling to work again before 
I was well out of danger. I could not linger to look 
at the torrent — misnamed the Stillebach — thundering 
down into the Inn, for a few yards farther there was 
another rapid fall of thin slabs of stone, of which some, 
lodged on the descent, were continually breaking loose 
and completing their leap. 

Here the road leaves the valley by a rocky gorge: 
strong by Nature and the defences of the Austrian 
Government. A fortress, built partly in the living 
rock, with loopholed towers and embrasured walls, 
commands the pass in either direction. Whoever holds 
it is master of one of the most important lines of com- 
munication between the northern and southern pro- 
vinces across the Central Alps. The Brenner route is 
equally well defended in the defiles near Brixen. The 
magazine is a chamber excavated out of the rock 
behind the masonry, where hostile shell or rocket can 
never penetrate. You see a sentry pacing up and down 
at the drawbridge, and groups of soldiers busy in the 
barracks and storehouses, or drinking at the canteen. 
All had on the light canvas coat which Austria, not 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 93 

having a prejudice in favour of cloth, permits her troops 
to wear during the hot season. 

I struck up the old road, and shortened the distance 
to Nauders by a mile. The village, with its three 
church spires, looks best at a distance, for there are log- 
houses and other ricketty structures in its by-streets, 
pierced with dark passages leading to cattle-stalls in 
the rear. Seeing a cabinet-maker at work, I went in 
to have a chat with him. He could always earn a 
florin a day in summer, at times as much more as made 
seven florins in the week ; but in the winter trade was 
Yerj dull, and he often went out woodcutting. It was 
easy to haul the logs home when snow lay on the 
ground. He rather liked going to church on Sunday, 
and never thought there was any harm in filling up the 
rest of the day with card-playing and ninepins. I 
found his tools of a very primitive form and construc- 
tion, such as we see represented in the earliest of 
wood-engravings ; but his workmanship was of the 
soundest. Some of his contrivances for framing and 
glueing were more ingenious than any I have ever seen 
in England. And here we may remember that Nau- 
ders is not without celebrity for handicraft. Joseph 
Bartlma Kleinhaus, a baker's son, born in 1774, lost 
his sight at the age of five by an attack of small-pox, 
which carried off seven of his brothers and sisters. To 
beguile his darksome hours the boy used to frequent a 
cabinet-maker's shop, where, in time, he succeeded in 
carving small wooden images, following a model by his 
sense of touch. In his thirteenth year he finished a 



94 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

crucifix that filled all who saw it with astonishment ; 
and from that time he earned a slender livelihood by 
the sale of sacred images. Moved by religious feeling, 
he learned also to play the organ, and officiated occa- 
sionally as organist in the churches. Some of his 
carvings are preserved in the Ambras collection at 
Vienna, others at Chur and Brixen, and a few, in a de- 
caying condition, yet stand by the wayside in different 
parts of the country. 

On — the road still ascending — past the castle, Nauders- 
burg ; and soon a prospect opens in the rear that repays 
you every time you turn round to look at it — a throng 
of mountain-peaks, bronze, and purple, and silver. The 
valley widens, leaving room for meadows ruddy and 
golden with flowers, and watered by frolicsome stream- 
lets, running away to the Inn. u Pleasant enough in 
summer !" said a road-mender ; "but in winter!" His 
pay is three florins a week. So, for about two hours ; 
and then, looking along the last slope of the road, there 
appeared above it a small silvery cone, which rose more 
and more into view; and, arrived on the top, I saw 
the giant range of the Alps glistening under the 
western sun. First the Laaser Spitz, then the Or tier 
Spitz, came into view, their towering forms from mid- 
way white with snow, outshining the clouds heaped up 
beyond with outlines borrowed from the mountains. 

I was now on the dividing ridge, 4800 feet above 
the sea, gazing down upon the Ober Vintschgau, from 
whence the streams flow to the Adriatic. On the 
left rises a magnificent rocky cone that looks into the 
savage Oetzthal, from the roots of which the source of 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 95 

the Etsch (Adige) bubbles up, and on the right the 
boundary hills of Switzerland. Ere long you cross a rill 
on the descent ; it is the infant river hurrying to lose 
itself in the Reschen See, the first of three lakes, and to 
flow from the last, a considerable stream. At Nauders 
I had seen signs of getting nearer the South in an altar 
profusely gilt, and a Christ, too gory, as it seemed to 
me, to excite either a sorrowful or a devotional sentiment ; 
and here, in the first little hamlet, I counted ten cruci- 
fixes scattered by the road-side — one to every two or 
three houses. At Graun, a village on the Mitter See, 
the Christ wears a formidable crown of thorns; the 
spines about five inches long. And presently there 
came along the road, with tonsured head and sandalled 
feet, and rosary hanging from the girdle of his brown 
serge gown, a Capuchin friar — the first real monk I had 
ever seen out of Charnwood Forest. He walked slowly, 
and looked up for a moment from his breviary to 
salute me as he passed. I could not help stopping to 
look back at him, and thought him well in keeping 
with the graven images. 

At six o'clock I came to St. Valentine-on-the-Heath 
(auf der Heide), where the Post, from its colour, is 
known as the gelbe, or yellow, Wirthshaus. The enter- 
tainment is poor ; but after my walk I was not dis- 
posed to be fastidious. A tailor sat in one corner of the 
room, busy over a boy's suit, and eating his supper of 
bread, cheese, and beer without pausing in his work. 
He tramps the parish from house to house, staying 
wherever his services are required, and earns about 
fifteen kreutzers a day besides his food. The hostess, 



96 OX FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

inclining to be talkative, plied me with questions con- 
cerning my history and intentions, and was hard to 
satisfy. Presently a smoking bowl was brought in, 
containing her children's supper. The three boys 
ranged themselves in front of the crucifix, gabbled a 
prayer, during which the youngest, who would look 
round at the tailor, was pulled round to face the image 
by the eldest, and before the last words were off their 
tongues they made the sign of the cross and hurried to 
the table, where each one dipping his spoon into the 
savoury stew, the bowl was speedily cleared. 

From the window I looked out on the Heath (Hoad 
in the vernacular), the third lake — Heider See — 
and a waterfall tumbling down the opposite hills: a 
tame scene. From Reschen to St. Valentine the road 
is comparatively level, passing large swamps, beds 
of reeds, and damp pastures, where the numerous bells 
of grazing herds make a musical clang in the distance. 
But, looking southwards, there was the Ortler Spitz full 
in view. I sat long scanning its snowy features through 
my telescope. Every minute the shadows altered as the 
sun sank lower; and horrid gulfs, and grim icy caverns 
and shelving wastes were in turn revealed as they 
caugbt the light; and I could scarcely repress a shudder 
at this distant exploration of the realms of death. At 
length I was glad to put away the glass, and watch the 
mighty cone as it came out cold and gray against the 
evening sky. I gazed with the more curiosity, as my 
morrow's walk would bring me upon its base. 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 97 



CHAPTER V. 

The severe Winter — Terrible Consequences — The Road swept away — 
The Flood — The Flowery Heath — Burgeis — Havoc in the Village — A 
horrid Gap — Busy Villagers — Loss and Suffering — Five Bridges carried 
away — Succours — Mais — A symbolical Fountain — The Virgin and 
seven Daggers — The Kitchen — Things in the Churchyard — View from 
the Hill — Helf-mir-Gott — A Murderous Battle — Glurns — Remains of 
the Flood — Lichtenberg — The cheapest Land — An Avalanche of Mud 
— Meadows overwhelmed — Agums — Industrious Peasants — Brad — 
The great Road of the Stelvio — A furious Stream — Gaps in the Road 
— Sullen Scenery — Stilfs — Gendarmes — Gomagoi — Landslips — Zig- 
zags— Madatsch Spitz — Trafoi — The Two Officers — The World's 
End — Sociability. 

The winter of 1854-5 was as long and severe on the 
Continent as in England, with extraordinary falls of 
snow ; and when the frost broke up, the torrents and 
rivers, swollen to an unusual height, tore open new 
channels, and ravaged the country along their banks 
for miles. The havoc in some parts of the mountain 
lands was terrible, and, following close upon the vine- 
disease, proved doubly calamitous to the inhabitants. 
What I had seen in the valley of the Inn was nothing, 
compared with the ruin that brought me to a sudden 
stand at the foot of the lake, shortly after leaving the 
Yellow Wirthshaus. 



98 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

Where there should have been a road and a bridge, 
yawned a horrid gap, with the Etsch dashing and 
sprawling after its own unruly will among the stones. 
On this side and that fell the ragged ends of the high- 
way, some twenty feet perpendicular, and a hundred 
feet apart : all between was clean gone. Only three 
weeks before, a rush of water from the melting snows 
on the mountains swept down the valley from lake to 
lake, fed by numerous tributaries on the way, and accu- 
mulating in the third till the dam and sluices, become 
weak and useless from long neglect, gave* way, out 
burst the mighty flood, carrying terror and devastation 
for miles. The huge gap — on which I stood looking, 
amazed at the power of running water — was but the be- 
ginning, the first trial of strength in a career that soon 
proved more destructive. 

I found a footpath leading to Mais across the Heath, 
as it is called, though carpeted everywhere with luxu- 
riant grass, so thickly strewn with flowers that no garden 
could be more gratifying to the eye. Many were the 
handfuls 1 gathered to carry for a while, inhale their 
fragrance, and then fling them away for others that 
seemed fresher and fairer. But there, on the right, were 
the signs of havoc ; bits of the road curving in the hol- 
lows at the hill-foot, looking very forlorn, with only two 
or three of the granite posts left standing of the once con- 
tinuous fence ; and the little torrents, no longer under 
the discipline of drains, now spread themselves out, run- 
ning whithersoever they would, giving finishing touches 
to the mischief. 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 99 

Turning aside towards the graceful and slender 
church spire of Burgeis, I mounted a slope, and there 
was the gap again: but what a scene of ruin! This 
village was the first to feel the shock of the flood, and 
with lamentable consequences, as was still but too appa- 
rent. Full fifty feet deep and a hundred yards wide, 
the gap itself presented a sight, of which it would be 
difficult to form an idea — a very chaos of mud, sand 
and gravel, pebbles, rocks and boulders; here and 
there a heap of weeds, or a shattered tree, with its roots 
bleaching in the sun. Gathering strength in its run of 
two miles, the furious torrent had swept straight through 
the solid earth as if it had been straw, and left a mea- 
sure of the waste in the tall cliffs standing on either 
side. 

Military engineers were at work with their theodo- 
lites and red and white signals, measuring the extent 
of the damage ; gangs of labourers were busy opening 
a new road on the Heath above ; and the villagers, 
men, women, and children, were re-establishing the com- 
munication across the gap. Forty-nine houses, with the 
bridge and mill, had been swept away, besides gardens, 
fields, potato-plots, and little meadows — gone for ever. 
On the opposite side, overlooked by Schloss Fursten- 
burg, and the Monastery of Marienberg, stands the re- 
mains of the village ; and there dips down the end of what 
was the rough narrow street. And the houses nearest 
the margin! one has lost its back, another a corner, 
another half its foundation, and leans over as if about 
to fall; and others, stripped of their outer shell, are mere 
h2 



100 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

skeletons of beams and rafters. The partitions and 
floors are all awry, and the sun is shining into nooks 
and corners never before visited by his beams. Such 
tenements, some little better than hovels, must have 
fallen before the rushing water as if made of paper. 
Still they had been the homes of hard-working folk, the 
birthplaces of their children, and the scene of their 
domestic joys and sorrows : and now, nothing left to 
them but the recollection of the past. 

The villagers were working, busy as bees. While some 
sorted the huge heaps of joists, boards, and shingles, 
laying aside the useful, others were bringing the road 
by a sharp turn down the face of the cliff. Ox- wains, but 
little larger than an English wheelbarrow, went slowly 
up and down the steep, and their loads were discharged 
by turning them bodily over. A temporary bridge was 
already built over the snarling stream, and some of the 
men brought big stones on a handbarrow, and the 
women and children baskets-full of pebbles, to raise 
the causeway to the proper level, and strengthen its 
border. The work went on systematically, but in a 
subdued and silent manner, as if the memory of the 
visitation were yet too painful for expression in words ; 
and there was no pause, except when the can filled 
from the river went round from mouth to mouth, for 
though still early it was a broiling day. 

Having made my way down, I remarked to one of 
the men that at least they had work enough. " Ja r 
Meinherr? he answered, " that is true ; but we are in 
poverty. Our houses, our beds, and household gear are 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 101 

all snatched away by the frightful flood. And we have 
no pleasure in the summer, for while we work here we 
can't work in our fields, and so we feel a double loss. 
Where we are standing was a green little meadow — look, 
now } Yes, we have work ; but where are our potatoes, 
our buckwheat, and rye ? Ah ! Meinherr, it was a ter- 
rible event." Happily, no lives were lost. The flood 
came down about six in the evening of the 1 7th June, 
but having been preceded by a warning, the people be- 
took themselves to the high ground, out of the reach of 
danger. By nine o'clock all was over, and the river 
had subsided into its new channel. Sad, indeed, must 
have been the sense of poverty, to call forth such super- 
abundant thanks for the trifle I gave to the man as he 
finished his story. 

The Ober Vintschgau suffered most from the flood ; 
but the country below was inundated for miles, down 
even to the neighbourhood of Neumarkt, where vine- 
yards and fields of maize were swept away or buried 
beneath the drifting sand. Schleiss and Laatsch, the 
next two villages, felt the shock after Burgeis ; but as 
the valley widens there was less destruction. Five 
bridges were swept away, three from the high-road, 
and two from the villages : the estimated loss in this 
district alone was half a million florins. " Let us prove 
our compassion by our deeds," said the Innsbrucker 
Tag-Blatt; and from all parts of the country, from 
nobles and peasants, came an answer to the appeal in 
money, grain, food, and clothing, to succour the unfor- 
tunate. 



102 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

I took the footpath again, and in another half-hour 
dropped down upon Mais — 31arkt-M.ah y as runs the in- 
scription over the entrance, denoting the place to be 
something between a village and a town. Just within, 
a fountain exhibits a strange combination of the useful 
with the sacred: behind the trough stands a life-size 
Christ, wanting the legs, pouring out a stream of water 
from an iron pipe inserted in its left side, at which a 
boy was drinking. Here women come to fill their 
buckets, and wayfarers and cattle to quench their thirst; 
and, under the circumstances, there seemed to me a 
risk of that familiarity which breeds contempt. In 
another street the tall cross bore the Virgin, in addi- 
tion to its usual burden, with seven daggers sticking in 
her heart. 

The Post is one of those comfortable houses where 
you may find good entertainment as well as rest. I 
took a survey of the kitchen, and was surprised by 
the culinary preparations, until I remembered that the 
Stellwagen would arrive, and carriages of visitors going 
to Finstermiinz. The hostess and her two cookmaids 
were busy around the oblong mass of brickwork, which 
you may see in the kitchens of all Tyrolese inns, watch- 
ing the multifarious pots and pans and savoury prepara- 
tions that bubbled and steamed over the numerous 
fireholes. From the furnace, at one end of the masonry 
flues lead to the several openings, at one or other of 
which your early cup of coffee, or your noontide cutlet, 
are alike prepared. No time was lest in fetching water, 



OK FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 103 

for in one corner of the room a fountain spouted a 
ceaseless stream. 

Having time to spare, I halted here two hours, and 
strolled into all the nooks and corners of the place. 
The churchyard lacks that which to an English eye is 
poorly replaced by attempts at ornament — green sward ; 
but contains some showy tombs, their railings tipped 
with gilt hearts, and deaths' heads painted of a bone 
colour at the corners. The most frequent emblems are 
an hour-glass or broken taper. Marble tablets are nu- 
merous on the walls ; and others of tin, similar in ap- 
pearance to coffin-plates, with rows of little pendants 
hanging loose, that swing to and fro in the breeze; and 
a hinged central piece covering a shallow recess, in 
which, when open, appears a painting of the deceased, 
led to glory by an angel. A few had, besides, the whole 
family of survivors, in their ordinary dress, kneeling, 
and with eyes fixed on the aerial travellers. 

Then you may remember that Mais was a Roman 
station ; and pry around the old circular watch-towers, 
dating from the middle ages ; and into the mill, with its 
rude and simple machinery, and queer archways and 
alleys, all interesting enough to repay your exploration. 
And here and there in the streets you come upon cherry 
orchards, and little fields of rye, and swift brooks over- 
shadowed by willows and elders, all of which conspire 
to show village life under a pleasant aspect. 

Then up the hill on the north, from whence you can 
gaze afar up and down the valley. Numerous villages 



104 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

are in sight from Burgeis to Tartsch; the course of the 
Etsch ; the road bending round the hill towards Meran, 
and the ancient town of Glurns. Behind Laatsch you 
see the Miinsterthal, leading to a pass over the moun- 
tains into Switzerland. In that valley, four houses, 
two smithies, fields and gardens, were swept away by 
the turbulent Rommbach ; while the Etsch, on this side, 
robbed Laatsch of eleven dwellings and two mills. 
There, on the heights, you can discern the ruins of 
Rotund and Reichenberg, once the strongholds of 
knightly robbers ; and there is the weatherbeaten tower 
of Helf-mir-Gott, so named, because, in the olden time, 
a damsel, crying "Help me, God!" leaped from the 
summit to escape a lewd marauder. And there, where 
the fields and meadows lie open to the sun, between 
Glurns and Mais, a murderous battle was fought, in 
March, 1499, when the Tyrolese peasantry, badly com- 
manded, fell in heaps before the Engadiners, who had 
swarmed down the Miinsterthal. Nine hundred wives 
were made widows by the defeat. So terrible a loss 
had never occurred on this frontier ; and when, a week 
afterwards, Kaiser Max came from Landeck and rode 
over the field, and saw the yet unburied corpses of his 
trusty defenders, he could not restrain his tears. The 
conquerors burnt down the surrounding villages as they 
retired ; and in revenge, fifty Engadiners detained as 
hostages at Meran were put to death without pity. As 
often since, the bravery of the" peasants was sacrificed 
for want of skilful and resolute leaders. 

Another day's walk along the highway, which you 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 105 

see disappearing in a curve round the hill, would bring 
you to Meran, among vines, and under the shadow of 
chestnut- trees. Here it is yet too cold for grapes ; but 
the elder, with its clustering blooms, growing thickly 
in many parts of the landscape, supplies a softening 
element of beauty. Mais itself, with its towers and 
enclosing wall, is pleasantly embowered. 

Now and then women passed, bearing a load of hay 
on their heads, from the little fields higher up the 
hill, and exhibiting such a circumference of leg as only 
continual exercise along mountain-paths can produce. 
Singularly enough, it is confined to them, for the men 
display no such enormous developments. Their speech 
is rustic as their appearance : koa — zwa—jo — na, for 
none, two, yes, no, may be taken as examples of the 
difTerence from true German. I found it hard at first 
to understand a man who had come up the hill to enjoy 
the breeze, and sat hammering his scythe-blade on a 
short iron bar fixed in the ground. Click — click — click, 
heard from below, told that the process of thinning the 
edge was going on in many places at once. The 
blades, which are shorter and broader than ours, cost 
forty kreutzers each, and last four years. They all 
come, said the man, • from the Stubayerthal, the great 
iron district of Tyrol. In winter his only resource is 
the " fearfully cold " work of woodcutting. 

At two I started again across the fields to Glurns, the 
nearest way to the Stelvio. The little town is entirely 
surrounded by a wall, washed on one side by the river. 
Here a temporary bridge led across to the arched 



106 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

tower, and on entering you see that the level of the street 
is some four feet below the sill of the gateway, owing 
to which the interior suddenly became a lake during 
the June flood. The townsfolk rushed and shut the 
gate when the alarm was given ; but water is an enemy 
not easily kept out, and I could still see the effects of 
the inundation, — drifts of sand and gravel, and stag- 
nant pools in the street, and people here and there 
pumping the water out of their basement-floors: the 
whole place looking dull and desolate. 

On, through pleasant lanes, to Lichtenberg, high 
enough above the valley to see the swamps, and the 
large brown patches left by the outflowing waters. And 
now you understand why, while the slopes are well 
cultivated, the bottom of the valley is left to nature : 
the floods are feared. Hence the lowest land is the 
cheapest, thirty kreutzers the klafter; but on the slopes 
the price is one florin. 

When in sight of Lichtenberg, and its castle on the 
hill behind, a great cloud of dust attracted my atten- 
tion. It was not progressive ; but remained whirling 
over one spot, and my curiosity being excited, I took 
a path across the fields that led towards it. The ex- 
planation was somewhat startling. For the space of 
half a mile, and nearly as much in breadth, the fields 
and meadows were buried beneath an avalanche of mud, 
stones, and gravel, and the miscellaneous rubbish of a 
mountain-side. On the day of the great flood this 
torrent came pouring from behind the hill on which 
the castle stands, down the course of a small brook, and 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYEOL. 107 

spread itself over trie lower slopes, as I now beheld, 
leaving the village untouched. A strange and distress- 
ing spectacle ! Walnut and apple-trees in full foliage 
apparently without stems, imbedded up to the branches ; 
elders more than half buried, their topmost masses of 
white blossom still waving in odorous beauty, as if to 
inspire hope amid disaster ; and in places the ends of a 
few slim branches, not yet withered, show where young 
trees have been borne down. Here and there large uptorn 
trees stand reversed, with gaunt pale roots in the air ; 
others prostrate, bearing marks of a rude struggle ; and 
everywhere huge boulders, slabs, long pale streaks of 
pebbles and gravel, and bits of timber ^scattered over 
the surface, in lines traceable with some degree of regu- 
larity amid apparent confusion. The mud in some 
places has a smooth, lava-like appearance, but now 
hard and firm beneath the foot; and in spots where 
fully dry, the breeze catching up and whirling the 
light particles forms the dust-cloud I had seen from a 
distance. The stream thins off towards the margin, 
and terminates in a smooth rounded edge, as if produced 
by cooling pitch; and it was curious to see the grass 
struggling out from beneath towards the light, and the 
leaves of the reversed branches shooting into their na~ 
tural position. Fertility and barrenness were here close 
together, and in melancholy contrast. u It is destroyed 
for ever," said a woman who knelt to cut the grass by 
handfuls from under the rim of the mud, " gone for 
ever, Meinherr ; we shall never see our fields again." 
Truly might the Innsbruck editors say that a cry of 



108 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

distress and lamentation was heard out of the Etsch 
valley, for the ruin was great ; and only by the 
charity of the nation and remission of taxes for a time, 
could the unfortunate peasants hope to retrieve their 
losses. The Government is always considerate on such 
occasions ; and in time the calamity, receding in the past, 
becomes a tale to be told by the winter-hearth. 

By wading and striding from one big stone to an- 
other, I crossed the brook that had served as conductor 
to the avalanche. It was brawling along, still turbid, in 
a straggling channel which, worn deeper and deeper, 
will perhaps open in time the former bed. When seen 
in contrast with the breadth of wild waste on either side, 
it seemed almost incredible that so small a stream could 
have assisted in such wide-spread devastation. 

On to Agums, across meadows where the second 
crop of grass, fed by numerous watercourses, was al- 
ready some inches high, and webs of coarse linen lay 
bleaching. Here, again, women on their knees were 
minutely mowing in nooks and corners and under the 
rail-fences, and the click of hammers upon the scythe- 
blades, mingling with the brisk sounds of the loom from 
open cottage-windows, indicated a spirit of industry 
unsubdued by disaster. Indeed, few signs of idleness 
are to be seen in German Tyrol : if you meet a woman 
walking on the road, tending a cow, bearing a load of 
fodder on her head, or in any employment that leaves 
her hands free, she is sure to be knitting. In the little 
Wirthshaus the hostess knits or sews, with no other 
pause than to wait on her guests; and the desire to im- 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 109 

prove every moment is manifest. This plodding kind 
of industry appears to stand both men and women in- 
stead of sprightliness ; it is, however, a kind which, 
persevered in, supplies their wants and promotes their 
comfort. 

A mile farther, and I came to Brad, a village on the 
great military road of the Stelvio, leading to the 
highest inhabited pass of the Alps, exceeding the St. 
Bernard by a thousand feet. The Austrian Govern- 
ment, keenly alive to the necessity for uninterrupted 
communications with Lombardy, keep it practicable for 
wheeled carriages or sledges all the year round. From 
the brink of the Etsch it rises into a region of perpetual 
winter, where, by dint of watchful and persevering 
labour, a successful contest is maintained against the 
ravages of frost, storm, and avalanche. There is some- 
thing bordering on the marvellous in such a triumph of 
daring skill over the elements, and I betook myself to 
the ascent, full of lively expectations of what I should 
see while traversing the wastes of snow on the morrow. 

The road, at first broad and almost level, narrows 
about a mile from Brad, and turns into a steep defile, 
shut in by precipitous walls of rock, between which 
the Munderetschbach rushes in ungovernable fury, — 
raging against the barriers that check its destructive 
propensities. Signs of mischief are already apparent: 
at one of the bends, although protected by a thick 
stone wall, a large piece of the road has been washed 
out, and the gap is temporarily filled with fir branches 
and lumps of rock, and the track passes round a hollow 



110 ON" FOOT THROUGH TYEOL. 

scooped from the bank. The scene becomes gloomy; 
the roar of the stream overpowering; sullen forests frown 
in the distance ; huge boulders gray with age peer up 
at the wayside, their scowl unrelieved by the graceful 
harebells that grow from their crevices. For once, it 
seemed to me the beauty of flowers was wasted. , 

Now the gaps in the road occur every hundred yards 
or oftener, and while trudging over the loose ground 
between the rough fence of poles and the treacherous 
bank, I began to doubt of finding the way open. Pre- 
sently, for nearly a quarter-mile, the highway is nothing 
but a thick layer of branches, shaking beneath the feet, 
and covered in many places by the water, — the road 
itself had been washed away. And here the river is 
more furious than ever, its uproar accompanied by sti- 
fled thunder from the big stones rolling along the rugged 
bed: a mad and ugly torrent ever gnawing away on 
either side the soil that would screen it with niggard 
vegetation. Seeing how forbidding are the features of 
the landscape, your imagination anticipates grim scenes 
in mounting higher. 

Always upwards ; and ere long the snowy peaks of 
the mighty Ortler Spitz come in sight. Then you pass 
little copses of hornbeam, overhung by ranges of dark 
firs; and little terraces, staked up here and there on the 
slopes for potato-plots; and small .fields of flax and rye, 
and little patches of meadow, where the first crop of hay 
is lying newly mown. Above, on the right, hangs the 
village of Stilfs, from which the pass derives its name, 
Stilfser-joch — in Italian, Stelvi and Stelvio. Here the 



OK FOOT THROUGH TYROL. Ill 

bridge and houses are of stone — wood perishes too soon 
in this inhospitable region, as shown by the decayed 
state of many of the low posts that border the road. 
Now and then a gendarme comes in sight, helmet on 
head, and musket slung on shoulder, and looks inquisi- 
tively at you as he passes. You meet one or more at 
every mile, for as the road leads to the Italian provinces, 
it is rigorously watched, lest political emissaries, as well 
as smugglers, find their way across the frontier. Then 
you cross to the left bank, and look down into a deep 
glen, where the graceful ash relieves the stiff masses of 
fir, and the river struggling far below sends a softened 
roar through the trees ; but in either direction the 
gloomy aspect still prevails. Then the hamlet Beide- 
wasser (Two Waters), from w^hence you get a peep up 
a side valley ; and next, the village of Gomagoi, where, 
as ; at Brad and the other villages, you see the K, K. 
Gendarmerie Caserne (Royal and Imperial guard-house), 
and more of the vigilant gendarmes. Here, brake- 
fern, and stonecrop grow in abundance on the slopes. 
Higher and higher rises the road above the stream, and 
numerous gangs of labourers are busy over the repairs, 
some of them as I passed wishing me good evening in 
Italian. At one place, they had just cleared away a 
landslip — a chaos of mud, roots, broken stems, and 
trees, tossed in all positions^ as if still falling — and ar- 
rested in its farther descent by rows of stout stakes and 
strong wattled fences. And to the first succeeds five 
others, for the slopes are steep, and the rains have been 
heavy, presenting an intermingling and confusion im- 



112 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

possible to describe. Then, more stone bridges, and 
frequent crossings from side to side, and sharp zigzags ; 
and the scene grows wilder, the trees fewer, and the 
brooks more rebellious. 

Another bend, and a wider view of the great moun- 
tain, and the huge dark cone of the Madatsch Spitz, 
and I got a glimpse of Trafoi, my intended halting- 
place. Another climb, and then — welcome repose. 
When near the houses, I saw a stranger, wearing an 
ordinary black hat, leaning against the fence with his 
hands in his pockets, who, as he remained dumb in 
reply to my salute, I set down for an Englishman: nor 
was I mistaken. Soon after seven I came to the Post, 
the Weissen Biesel, disposed to enjoy rest and its 
accompaniments. Two Austrian officers, who had pre- 
ceded me in a carriage, were at supper in the Gast- 
kammer, and I had not long been seated when they 
began to question me concerning my journey. It was 
unusual for a foreigner to cross the mountain alone ; the 
ascent to the summit was very laborious, and hardly to 
be attempted if storms should threaten. What did the 
English nation generally think of Kossuth and Mazzini ? 
To harbour such " miserables " was disgraceful : what 
did it mean? 

I replied, " To be able to believe what it means you 
must go and live in England. We love our own rights 
and liberties too well to endanger them by expelling 
fugitives who respect their asylum." 

Then, " did we mean to take Sebastopol?" 

" Of course we do. When the British Lion makes 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 113 

up his mind to do a thing, he does it. His mind is 
made up to take Sebastopol, and take it he will." 

" We shall see," they retorted, with a laugh. 

We have seen. 

Before the road was made, Trafoi was the " World's 
End" of the Tyrolese : fit name for a spot so wild and 
lonely. The village consists of about a dozen scattered 
houses and a little church, in the hollow beneath the 
road, surrounded by a few small fields and pastures, all 
shut in by horrid cliffs and sombre forests. By a path 
across these fields you may walk to the very foot of the 
Ortler, and visit the chapel dedicated to the Virgin, 
built in that wild solitude. The inn itself is on the 
edge of the road, overlooking all the other houses, its 
broad eaves projecting far enough to shelter a wagon; 
and opposite the door a copious fountain leaps from the 
rock into a capacious trough where horses drink, men 
wash, and the cook cleanses her pans. As I walked 
about after supper, while the sky darkened with clouds 
and the wind blew chill, a feeling of being indeed at 
the world's end crept over me, and I could easily 
believe that many had turned back from hence when a 
rugged and rarely-trodden footpath was the only tho- 
roughfare. Here, fiye thousand feet above the sea, 
conventionalities lose their force and give place to socia- 
bility. A party of wagoners and car-drivers lounged 
among their vehicles in the great shed, amused by the 
officers' Hungarian courier, who was telling them won- 
derful stories of his travels and adventures. Of all the 
places he had seen Trafoi was the worst, and chiefly be- 

I 



114 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

cause no beer was to be had there, and wine was dearer 
than at Innsbruck. 

Heavy rain began to fall, and presently poured down 
as if mountain cataracts were tumbling on and around 
the house: ominous of delay. It drove me into the 
house to another talk with the officers, who were by no 
means disposed to be taciturn. As for the Englishman, 
he kept himself to himself somewhere in a room apart ; 
we saw nothing of him in the travellers' room. 

We all went early to bed. Thinking over the inci- 
dents of the bygone hours, it seemed to me scarcely 
possible that but a single day had elapsed since I left 
the Yellow Wirthshaus. 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 115 



CHAPTER VI. 

An early Start — A bright Landscape — More Zigzags — Savage Scenery 
— Views across the Snow — The Glaciers — Fearful Chasm — Franzens- 
hohe — "Wild Prospect— The Eefuge — A Ruin — Steeper Cut-offs — A 
Hailstorm — Shelter under the Gallery — Fall of Stones — The Two 
Gendarmes — Their suspicious Inquisition — A Debate — "You must 
go back!" — A surly Specimen — The Englishman conquers — The 
Road-menders' Fire — The Polenta Kettle — Bone and Muscle without 
Meat — More Zigzags — Cost of the Road— The last Gallery — The 
Summit — Waste of Snow — The Ortler Spitz — The Descent — A Squall 
— Santa Maria — Enter Lombardy — Lake of Brauglio — Grim Scenery 
—A Tale of Terror— The Chief of the Gang— The Wiirmser-loch— 
Spondalunga — Gloomy Vaults — Fir-trees again — Fairyland — Baths 
of Bormio — Pleasant Valleys — Bormio — Its Waterspouts — A dirty 
Inn — The Mystery explained. 

When I looked out soon after five the next morn- 
ing, patches of blue were visible among the clouds, and 
the drops left by the rain on the spreading branches of 
the firs and the edge of the roof glistened with rainbow 
hues from the early sunbeams. The two military gen- 
tlemen, who were just on the start, returned my greet- 
ing, and away they drove up the hill. Ere long I was 
on their track. My coffee was served in a tureen- 
shaped cup with two handles, presenting a curious 
variety to the specimens I had already seen of German 
crockery. The usual practice in Tyrol is to drink coffee 
from a thick and heavy ale-glass. 

12 



116 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

Cheerfully tinkled the bells of the cows as they has- 
tened up the slopes, cropping the scanty patches of 
moist grass on the way ; the air was cool, the sky 
brightening, and the landscape that looked so dismal 
and dreary the evening before, now appeared with 
features of a wild kind of beauty. Goethe says that 
landscapes are only beautiful in sunshine ; and here his 
theory was verified, but with the addition of over- 
powering touches of the savage and sublime. As the 
road rises, more and more is the great glacier seen, and 
the Madatsch, in itself a mountain. Then you come to 
sharp zigzags up a formidable and precipitous buttress, 
and a steep path leading directly to the highest — a 
short cut — but one that will make you pant again with 
climbing it. Once up you come upon savage crags, on 
a level with the foot of the great glacier. The sight 
will arrest your steps for a while, for the stupendous 
mass rises clear on the farther side of the gulf, and you 
survey it from base to summit, half-shuddering at the 
view of its frozen surges. 

Then a dozen short quick zigzags, mounting suddenly 
to a higher level, all of which may be avoided by 
another cut-off, near the top of which I saw the* first 
rhododendron — an index of the elevation. From hence 
your eye takes in a wider expanse of snow ; here tossed 
into ridges resembling breakers just about to plunge; 
there sunk in mazy furrows; there smooth slopes and 
level plains of exquisite purity, their cold beauty unde- 
faced by cloud or tempest, and yawning caves gleaming 
brightly in the sunlight, some so proudly arched that 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 117 

they become in imagination the porticos of a mighty 
temple. And from hence you see how the sun, 
peeping into the crevices of the glacier, discovers its 
patches of blue ice, and sprinkles the wan, desolate 
surface with countless sapphires; and far below the 
stream struggles from beneath the icy precipice ; too far 
for any but a faint murmur to rise to your ear. And 
all enclosed in a dark setting of firs, some of which 
send out straggling ranks away up the white slopes till 
you lose them in the mists drifting across the summits. 
And at times, through momentary openings, you get 
dim glimpses of lofty peaks, and as a shower sweeps 
past, followed by streaks of sunshine, the effects of light 
and shade are marvellous. A spectacle to be gazed at 
with deep emotion, that henceforth remains as a new 
element in your being. A charm against weariness in 
the present ; a solemn joy in memory for the future. 

The road returns upon itself so often that Trafoi re- 
appears more than once in the backward view, and a 
carious effect is produced by catching here and there 
the points of zigzags which appear to have no con- 
nexion with each other, and project in such unex- 
pected places, that you half doubt whether you really 
passed them in the ascent. Around me all was clear, 
but far down the valley dense mists whirled and tossed 
in wild commotion, yielding slowly to the solar ray. 

More zigzags, and then you look down into a fear- 
some chasm, which seems to be the refuse-pit of the 
mountain. Yonder an arch in the limestone cliffs cheats 
you with the idea of a tunnel. Then you pass the ruins 



118 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

of a house, shattered some years ago by an avalanche; 
and in two hours of hard walking the cantonniera of 
Franzenshohe appears on the left. A large solitary 
building, which serves as inn, refuge, and shelter for 
cattle, standing in a very bleak and desolate situation a 
little off the road. The vegetation around is of the 
scantiest ; a few patches of grass among the rocks and 
screes, bestrewn with mounds of houseleek and a few 
flowers, where the cows and sheep graze during the 
genial months. The fir-trees are left behind ; and now 
we are near the line of perpetual snow, and yonder, far 
aloft, is the summit of the pass, and a singular sight it 
is to see the dark zigzag lines of the rail fences, stretch- 
ing away till they meet the darker lines of the galleries, 
and disappear in the clouds. There lies our path — 
Courage ! 

I found the enclosed court of the house ankle-deep 
in stable refuse, after crossing which there was a dark 
stair and a dark passage, leading to a smoky kitchen, 
from which the mistress led me along another dark 
passage to a light bedroom, where everything was 
scrupulously clean. Ceiling, walls, floor, chairs, tables, 
and bedstead — all of unpainted pine — looking as good 
as new, and in agreeable contrast with the dirty base- 
ment and smoky kitchen. One of the tables was what 
is called a Falltische, which hinged to the wall, and 
with hinged legs turns up out of the way when not 
in use. Two mould candles stood ready, and the stove 
was prepared for a fire should a chance traveller arrive 
at nightfall. Everywhere in Tyrol they know how to 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 119 

make excellent coffee; and this lonely place was no 
exception, as I soon proved by the steaming can that 
was set before me. The woman stayed to have a little 
chat ; she had not seen many travellers since the season 
opened; in winter the snow was up to the window-sill, 
twenty feet from the ground, and passages had to be 
cut for egress. It was very dreary then. " But as you 
hear, Meinherr" she added, "some of the men can 
play the fiddle, and with that and the cards the time 
goes by." 

Fortified by this second breakfast, I betook myself 
once more to the ascent. Here the road is on a level 
with the glacier's breast and towering cliffs of ice ; and so 
keen a wind swept down from the snow, that I was glad 
to button my overcoat. The cut-off leads across the 
screes and turf; and here and there, in little sheltered 
nooks, grow buttercups, thistles, gentian-bells, wild 
thyme, and forget-me-nots: 

" Spots that lie 
Sacred to flowrets of the hills." 

Then another ruin : a cantonniera, built, as was be- 
lieved, strong enough to resist any shock ; but one 
spring the rushing gnows crushed it, and buried the 
unfortunate postmaster under an enormous rock. Then 
more cut-offs, steeper and steeper. I was picking my 
way along the highest on a precipitous slope, when a 
heavy, rattling hailstorm burst, hiding everything be- 
yond the distance of a few yards ; and, as if by magic, 
the green patches changed to white. A flock of sheep 



120 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

rushed past me with piteous Heatings, seeking a shelter. 
The first gallery was not far off; I made a push, and 
gladly found myself under the roof. At the same mo- 
ment I saw a gang of rotteri — road-menders — running 
to a gallery a short distance beyond. 

I unslung my knapsack and walked briskly up and 
down, for the cold was severe. The hissing, pelting 
storm continued unabated, and the wind blew with 
prolonged and dismal howl. I foreboded the worst: 
winter was triumphing in his own domain. At times 
a lump of rock rolling down the slope fell bump on the 
roof, and bounded over to the road, or, clearing the 
fence, disappeared in the depths below. Every minute 
seemed colder than the last, and I had much ado to 
keep warm by running to and fro, and beating my 
arms, when two gendarmes, in thick great-coats, ap- 
peared descending through the drift. They came 
straight towards me, and asked, " Have you a passport ?" 

" Certainly. You know that strangers cannot enter 
the land without one." 

" Let us see it." 

" Have you the right to demand it ?" 

"Have we not?" Whereupon, not to vex their 
suspicion, I produced the document. 

The taller of the two, a hirsute fellow, with an ex- 
aggerated moustache, looked at it for a minute with a 
self-important air, and said, "'Tis not good, muss* 
herunter — You must go back." 

"Not good!" I exclaimed, and pointed out the am- 
bassador's visa, the double eagle, the Bregenz stamp, 






ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 121 

dwelling with emphasis on the legible name Venedig — 
Venice, and asked, " What is good, if that is not ?." 

Parrot-like came the answer : " 'Tis not good. You 
must go back." 

Then I repeated what had been said at Bregenz; 
how that I had leave to choose my road, and had been 
assured that no one would have a right to stop me on 
the Stelvio. 

" All very well to say so ; but you must go back." 

" No, I won't go back. Moreover, I have a perfect 
right to go as far as the frontier ; and they will tell me 
at Santa Maria if I am an unlawful intruder." 

" Muss' herunter" retorted Surly, with a jerk of his 
head towards Gomagoi. " There isn't a word in the 
passport about the Lombard provinces." 

I persisted in my refusal, and made him inspect the 
visas again, one after the other. Meanwhile his com- 
rade, who was neither harsh nor hairy, broke in with 
" Can you speak Italian ?" 

" About forty words." 

" Are you a pedler ?" with a glance at my knapsack, 
that lay on a pine log. " What have you in your 
pack ?" I explained. " What are you, then ?" 

" An Englishman !" 

My answer satisfied him; but Surly, keeping up his 
character, once more ejaculated, "Muss* herunter!" 

"Not on my own legs," I rejoined. "You will 
have to carry me. It cost me too much trouble to 
get up." 

Whether he hoped to extort a fee, or was really sus- 



122 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

picious, I know not; certain it is, that after another 
inspection of the passport he gave it back into my 
hands, and muttering something through his mous- 
tache to his comrade, they both went on their way 
down the hill, very much to my satisfaction. 

The storm still raged, and I had resumed my tramp 
to and fro, when a man, running from the upper gallery, 
cried as he came near me, "Why don't you come? 
We have been shouting to you this half-hour. Come 
up to us, we have a fire. You will be frozen if you 
stay here." 

I followed him forthwith, and found a party of ten 
ensconced in a gap between piles of timber, protected 
by a bank of snow, on the inner slope of which the fire 
was kindled. They sat around on straw, spread on the 
planks, and made room for me in the warmest place, 
and offered me a drink from their kettle of polenta. I 
felt sorry that my abhorrence of anything resembling 
gruel made me seem to slight their hospitality. How- 
ever, they took no offence, and congratulated me on 
having escaped the gendarmes, he who had run to 
invite me, speaking a little German, serving as inter- 
preter to all the others, who could speak nothing but 
Italian. Of course I had to satisfy their curiosity as to 
why I came, where I was going, and my country. On 
the latter particular a debate arose, some contending 
that I had not told the truth, and a majority remained 
incredulous. Their diet, they told me, as the kettle 
went round from mouth to mouth, was mostly polenta; 
at times soup, or bread and cheese ; and yet they were 



ON FOOT THKOUGH TYEOL. 123 

sturdy, muscular fellows, well able to work, and appa- 
rently willing. And here on the mountain their labour 
involves some degree of risk as well as unusual exertion. 
An English labourer would require at least his bacon. 

After about an hour specks of blue sky reappeared, 
the opposite mountains loomed faintly through the 
thinning hail ; the men said " addio" and went to their 
work, some scrambling down the steep to recover the rails 
dispersed by the winter storms, while others set up posts 
to renew the fence; and I took the upward route. No 
more cut-offs, nothing but a constant succession of zig- 
zags, and scarcely one without a gallery. The snow lay 
in places thirty feet deep, with a passage cut through it 
just wide enough for a carriage, the rest being left to 
the chance of melting. Now it is that you perceive 
how ceaseless must be the vigilance, and how indomit- 
able the industry that keeps a road open in such a wild, 
wintry region ! The galleries, or literally pent-houses, 
are built about half the width of the road; a sloping 
roof of planks, resting on solid pine pillars a foot square, 
meeting the pitch of the hill behind, so that the down- 
rushing snow or earth is frequently shot clear of the 
road to the slopes below. You see that in places the 
roofs range in a line one above another, offering a free 
descent; but in spite of all precautions the avalanches 
at times crush and carry away the timbers, as is mani- 
fest by the many new patches, and the frequent gaps in 
the fences. And being always wet, the wood decays 
rapidly, necessitating continual repairs ; so that the 
summer barely suffices to repair the winter's destruction. 



124 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

No wonder such, large piles of timber are kept stored 
up ! Disheartened by their struggle with the elements, 
the authorities have at times considered a project for 
piercing the mountain by a tunnel a thousand feet 
below the summit; but as yet without result. 

The traffic route from Tyrol into Italy formerly passed 
by Glurns, up the Munsterthal to Santa Maria on Monte 
Brauglio, or Wiirmser-joch, and so down into the Val- 
teline. But after the battle of Waterloo, Austria having 
become aware of the importance of a direct communi- 
cation with her Lombard provinces, and the people of 
the Grisons having refused to let or sell a thorough- 
fare through their canton, she resolved on making a 
road within her own territory. The ablest engineers 
were set to survey the Stilsfer-joch, and the road, com- 
menced in 1819, was finished in 1825, at a cost of three 
million florins. 

I kept on, striding through the sludge formed by the 
heavy drip from the roofs, fancying myself at times in 
danger of burial from the impending masses of snow. 
A freezing blast swept through some of the galleries, that 
made me shiver again, and I was glad to turn into a 
different angle, or step into the gaps in the snow, and 
look out on the peaks, showing strange through the 
ragged mists. The last gallery is nearly a quarter-mile 
in length; and emerging from its damp shelter, a few 
yards brought me to the summit. I stood for a while 
looking back on the view, one of the grandest in the 
Alps. Before me rose the gigantic form of the Ortler, 
seemingly increased in bulk by the rolling mists that 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 125 

partially concealed it ; and pale white bluffs and peaks 
rising up into the clouds. All was calm. Not a sound 
could I hear, save what seemed but the whisper of a far- 
away torrent, and now and then a flit of wind, like the 
quick, sharp flutter of a sail : no sooner heard than silent. 
Nowhere is silence so impressive as on the mountain- 
tops. 

Looking up at the Spitz of the Ortler you will ad- 
mire the courage of the Austrian engineers who made 
it one of the stations of the Ordnance survey. The 
height is 14,000 feet. At the beginning of the present 
century, the first attempt was made to ascend it, by 
orders of the Archduke John, and without success, until 
September, 1804, when a hunter out of the Passeyrthal, 
Joseph Pichler by name, accompanied by two Ziller- 
thalers, reached the highest point. The next ascent was 
accomplished by an engineer officer, who lit a bonfire 
on the summit with materials carried up for the pur- 
pose, to convince the incredulous people below of his 
success. Since then, others, among whom was a girl of 
sixteen, have climbed to the same point, either for the 
sake of science or adventure. From thence, in a clear 
atmosphere, can be seen the glimmer of the far-distant 
Adriatic. 

The summit of the pass itself, the highest in the 
Alps practicable for carriages, is 9100 feet above the sea- 
level. The descent begins at once; and in a few paces 
you lose the view over Tyrol, and there on the left is 
the stone column that marks the frontier, and now you 
are in Lombardy. On the right stands a low, solid, 



126 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

massive building, with small windows, apparently di- 
minished by the thickness of the walls, the residence of 
the inspector of the road, and available as a refuge in 
stormy weather. What a dreary abode ! a perpetual 
winter - habitation. That any one should voluntarily 
choose it, seems incredible. Not a sound came from it, 
and the only sign of life was a thin smoke creeping from 
the chimney. Having no motive to call, I passed on, 
and in another minute the house was out of sight. Now 
a broad, shallow basin opens, encompassed by towering 
ridges, with no apparent outlet : such a vast and deso- 
late waste of snow as I have never before beheld. A 
solitude truly awful. A sight to make you hesitate, 
were it not for the dark angles that peer up here 
and there as if a giant finger had traced mathematical 
figures ; and reassured by these, you plunge into the 
deep and cheerless trackway. 

Merrily goes the descent though, after all, for there 
is no fear of straying from the path, and the conscious- 
ness that the ascent is overcome is encouraging. The 
declivity is much less steep than on the Tyrolese side. I 
was in sight of Santa Maria, when a squall of mingled hail 
and rain, accompanied by one sudden, short thunderclap, 
broke loose, and played a thousand tempestuous pranks, 
from which I was glad to escape under the sheltering 
roof. There is a large block of buildings here, com- 
prising guard-house, inn, custom-house, and stables, 
solid as a castle, with vaulted ceilings, stone passages, 
and buttressed walls. I had not been many minutes in 
the dining-room when a carabineer entered, asked for 



ON FOOT THEOUGH TYKOL. 127 

my passport, and presently brought it back duly signed, 
and returned it into my hands without a word of 
demur. The gendarmes might have spared their sus- 
picions. Two or three travellers who watched the 
storm with anxious looks were waiting to cross the 
mountain. One, a trader going to Botzen, wished to 
know if it was very cold on the summit, and how long- 
it would take him to reach Franzenshohe, as his clothing 
was of the thinnest — a linen blouse, with et cseteras to 
match. He already shivered, and could hardly believe 
that he had complained of the heat two days before at 
Milan. 

Here, at Santa Maria, you are made aware of having 
crossed the frontier by hearing a mixed dialect of Italian 
and German, and a perceptible difference of feature and 
expression in the people. Paper money, too, is no 
longer current: though Austrian subjects, the Lom- 
bards will have nothing to do with the shabby little 
bank-notes ; for which contingency it is desirable to be 
prepared by a bag of zwanzigers, or a few Napoleons. 
And it is well to remember that on this side of the 
mountains English sovereigns are reckoned only at the 
value of the French coin. 

The buildings stand below the line of snow, on the 
border of the most elevated pastures, but where no tree 
or bush animates the prospect. The accommodations 
are ample for vehicles and cattle, as well as travellers ; 
and you may descend either into Switzerland or the 
Valteline. 

About one the storm ceased, leaving the sky over- 



128 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

cast with occasional drizzle. The trader started some- 
what unwillingly for the ascent; and as I turned in 
the other direction, he told me I should find no one 
speaking German till I got to Bormio, and then only 
the Kellnerinn at the Post. Stepping out briskly, I 
soon came to the plain and lake of Brauglio, and among 
thistles and greener grass, and then down into a maze of 
deep valleys, under tremendous precipices and thunder- 
ing waterfalls. In some places the strata run perpendicu- 
lar, broken by contortions, grotesque in their variety; 
and the cliffs, bronzed and blackened by wind and wea- 
ther, tower aloft one above another, hiding their jagged 
summits in the flying scud. Then a lodge, and another 
valley, where zigzags begin, grim as chaos, in spite of 
the stunted bushes which here struggle into existence. 
Then another lodge, and on the slope above a long 
timbered barrier, erected at an angle, to turn aside the 
avalanches. Heavy rain fell at intervals, and streams 
poured down from the heights, dislodging loose stones 
that rolled into the road ; and seeing some newly-fallen 
as big as butter-firkins, I kept a watchful eye upwards. 
I was going down a rugged, rocky cut-off, near the 
first of the scrub firs, when I met a man who, with 
affrighted looks, told a voluble tale of terror, draw- 
ing his hands from time to time across his throat, or 
holding them before his eyes as if to shut out some 
horrid spectacle. " Quattro personi ! Quattro personi /" 
he repeated again and again, pointing down the valley ; 
and, as well as my forty words would permit, I gathered 
that four persons had been crushed by stones ; but why 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 129 

their throats were cut besides did not appear. What did 
it mean ? The man's distress appeared to be real ; and I 
went on, feeling somewhat apprehensive, for in so wild a 
valley what might not happen? Presently I saw a tall 
fellow, in slouched hat and long cloak, on a spur of the 
hill, overlooking the road in both directions, who, as I 
came in sight, whistled, in what seemed a peculiarly signi- 
ficant manner. What did that mean ? Suppose he should 
be the leader of a gang, on the look-out for victims ! I 
kept on, and turning the corner discovered a boy, driving 
a flock of lop-eared sheep by a short cut up the hill, 
and the whistling was for his guidance. No evidence 
yet of the disaster to the " quattro personiP 

A little lower, and you enter the savage Wiirmserloch, 
a deep, narrow chasm, formed apparently by some shock 
that split the mountains from base to summit, and 
heaved them a few yards asunder. You look up to 
precipices that touch the clouds, and down into a gulf, 
along which a torrent raves and plunges. All rock and 
stone — nothing else : a valley of desolation ; 

" As if were here denied 
The summer sun, the spring's sweet dew, 
That clothe with many a varied hue 

The bleakest mountain-side." 

And the road is a mere shelf, hewn out of the face of 
the cliff; and by-and-by you come to the famous stone 
galleries, with arched roofs, three feet thick, springing 
from the solid rock on one side, resting on six-feet walls 
and buttresses on the other, strong as the rock itself. 
Mark what frightful acclivities rise above, and you will 

K 



130 ON FOOT THEOUGH TYROL. 

see that snows plunging from thence would crush any 
structure less massive as a screen of reeds. One after 
the other, they occur for nearly half a mile, the longest 
known as Spondalunga, or the long wall ; and a curious 
effect is produced by the sight of their low, lateral, 
semicircular openings in the distance: so many holes, 
as it were, pierced in the mountain. Here and there the 
rock itself is pierced, and you see but little difference 
between it and the masonry. 

Not without emotion do you enter these melancholy 
vaults, where dim lights alternate with vistas of gloom, 
and solemn echoes reverberate to your footsteps. Here 
and there a heavy drip from the roof keeps up a cease- 
less patter, and there is a noise of gurgling in unseen 
drains, and you plash through thin streams of water, that 
have made their escape. The curve of the longest gal- 
leries prevents your seeing from end to end, and deepens 
the obscurity. In one of these there was a confused and 
bewildering roar, created by a cascade that leaps down a 
channel in the inner wall, and rushes away beneath the 
road. Swollen by the rain, which now fell in a steady 
pour, it flooded the roadway, and more than once, de- 
ceived by the uncertain shadows, I started back from 
what seemed a deep gully, washed out by the rapid 
current. The drip, the noise, and the cold damp blasts, 
make the passage sufficiently uncomfortable to heighten 
the pleasure with which you emerge from the lower ex- 
tremity. Altogether, the galleries measure nearly half 
a mile in length. In other places the rock is left over- 
hanging far enough to shoot a snowslip clear of the road. 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 131 

In the gulf on the right I saw the remains of avalanches, 
muddy and stained, that had fallen in May ; and many 
a stone did I see roll down on the track, but was struck 
by none. 

The road falls rapidly, always on the edge of the gulf, 
and hemmed in by the stony cliffs, which narrow the 
view by their frequent windings. By-and-by you see a 
break, the Adda tumbling down in a deep waterfall, 
and fir-trees, in something like their familiar propor- 
tions; and the road, bending sharply to the left, descends 
a widening reach of the valley, where the dark patches 
of forest look almost cheerful. A little farther, and 
there is a spacious wooden gallery, built for a halting- 
place ; a file of ox- wains filled it from end to end, 
waiting, out of the rain, while the drivers ate their crust, 
or wrung the moisture from their long shaggy cloaks. 
Not one of them knew of any accident or deed of 
violence, nor could they explain the mysterious com- 
munication I had heard. Another mile, and you get 
sight of the country far below: Val Pedenos, Monte 
Columbano, and broad green slopes ; a very fairyland, in 
contrast with the bare and desolate region you have left 
behind. Three or four villages come into view, and 
trees and fields, and the large square building at the 
Baths of Bormio. At every step the valley widens, and 
brings you nearer to human sympathies. Then you 
come to an archway, pierced through a jutting cliff; a 
drawbridge over a deep chasm, where a Latin inscrip- 
tion on the rock tells the history of the road, and a 
tall obelisk records the labour expended. 
K2 



132 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

The rain diminished ; the landscape began to smile 
under a faint watery gleam, and by the time I had tra- 
versed the slaty cut-off leading down to the baths, the 
sun himself peeped between the clouds, luring a few of 
the guests out upon the terrace. From hence the road 
makes a long sweeping curve on a level, overlooking 
the verdant basin, from which four valleys branch off, 
flanked by snow-capped hills, forming a varied and 
picturesque scene. Houses dot the slopes, streams frolic 
across the fields, and numerous light and graceful church 
spires point upwards. There is much on which the eye 
rests with pleasure, though the valley, nearly four thou- 
sand feet above the sea, is limited in its vegetation. 
You see plenty of grass, and fields of rye, and have a 
favourable impression of the hill-country of Lombardy. 

Seats are placed here and there along the road 
for the use of visitors, who during the months of July 
and August frequent the baths. Bormio, or Worms, 
as the Germans call it, comes in sight from an ascent 
beyond the extremity of the curve, with its nine 
churches, and buildings in which the styles of moun- 
tain village and lowland town are curiously combined. 
The last of the rain still poured from the long project- 
ing spouts into the street, and filled numerous little 
pools in the rough causeway, — such spouts as are still 
remembered by old inhabitants in some of our own 
country towns. Inadvertently I walked under two or 
three of these cascades, and learnt by experience that 
giving the wall in Bormio involves real self-sacrifice. 
From the outside, the town presents little of the dis- 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 133 

orderly grouping shown in villages of the Tyrol; but 
once within, you see how poor are the houses, how 
rude the shops, and doors and shutters clumsy and ugly 
enough to suit a jail. 

I found the Albergo delta Posta in a narrow street ; 
but how different from the Tyrolese inns! There is 
but one word to express the condition of the dining- 
room floor — filthy ; while the ceiling was elaborately 
decorated, the walls hung with prints and maps, and a 
good sofa stood at one end, betraying the innkeeper's 
ignorance of the fitness of things. When the Kellnerinn 
brought my supper, and told me she was a Swiss, I asked 
her how she could endure to live in such a dirty house. 
" Money is to be earned here," she answered ; "I re- 
main only from June to October ; then I go to my 
home, five hours hence across the frontier, for there's 
nothing to do in Bormio in the winter." She was busy 
enough now, attending to guests, who came in for their 
supper; and the ostler, running hither and thither in 
the yard with his copper buckets full of water, was 
sorely taxed by impatient vetturini calling him many 
ways at once. 

The evening drew on, calm and clear. Early closing, 
as I saw in a stroll about the town, is not the practice, 
for the shops were not shut at nine o'clock. Homely 
and primitive in appearance, they are stores rather than 
shops: the druggist is somewhat quaint in his fittings ; 
old-fashioned jars, and curious balances ; and the grocer 
exhibits all the variety of a museum, for he combines 
eight or ten other trades with his own, and will sell you 



134 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

coffee, pottery, hardware, and handkerchiefs. Glazed 
windows are few, and business is carried on without any 
of the allurements that entrap customers. In one of the 
narrowest streets lounged a group looking at a smoking 
gap, where in the forenoon a fire had destroyed two 
houses, and four persons had been killed by a falling 
wall. Here, then, was the melancholy explanation of 
the tale of mystery I had heard beyond the Wiirmser- 
loch. 

I went to bed with misgivings ; but the chamber was 
less dirty than the dining-room, and the sheets were 
clean. Rain fell during the night as if a waterspout had 
burst over the town. 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 135 



CHAPTER VII. 

The Val Furva — Hotel Charges — A Letter to the Hostess — San Nicolo — 
San Antonio — Dirt, Devotion, and Saw-mills — The Frodolfo — Santa 
Caterina — The Hotel Kitchen — Bargain with the Guide — A Chat with 
the Cook — The Mineral Spring, Val Forno — Start for the Gavia Pass 
— Talk by the Way — Pic Alto — Giacomo's Jodeln — The Shepherd's 
Hut — A wild Ascent — Stopped by a Snow-ridge — Doubling the Crag 
— Creep through a Crevice — A Glacier — A dreary Glen — Ponta di 
Preda — Sublimity of Sullenness — Difficult Walking — Playing a Trick 
— Corno dei Tre Signori— The White Lake— The Summit— The Black 
Lake— The Oglio— Halt by a holy Fountain— Effect of Alcohol- 
Hovels and their Inmates — Lake Silissi — Pezzo — Ricketty Houses — 
" Nostro Giacomo!" — Hospitable Demonstration — Ponta di Legno — 
Meagre Fare — A Scene at Bedtime. 

Having seen the Pass of the Stelvio, I now shaped 
a course across the country for Trent — leaving the 
highway for byways. My first stage lay up the Val 
Furva, running south-east from Bormio into the moun- 
tains, and by eight the next morning I was a league on 
the way towards Santa Caterina, a hamlet at the foot of 
the Gavia. 

The charges at the Posta were in the same propor- 
tion as the dirt — being three times as much as in Tyrol. 
As every one in Santa Caterina spoke Italian, the 
Kellnerinn, thinking I should be embarrassed in engag- 
ing a guide for the Gavia Pass, brought me of her own 



1 36 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

accord, with my receipted bill, a letter written by the 
landlord to his wife, who was keeping the hotel up at 
the secluded hamlet. An hotel in such a spot ? Yes ; 
there was a mineral spring up there, and a cool tem- 
perature, and for two months of the summer a goodly 
number of languid visitors were attracted thither from 
the hot lowland plains. 

A morning delightfully bright and cool made the 
walk exhilarating. The valley presents the usual alpine 
characteristics, and some that are peculiar to Italy. 
Many log-houses with broad eaves are scattered about 
the slopes — very pictures of untidiness; and the vil- 
lages San Nicolo and San Antonio are miserably dirty 
and squalid; in strong contrast with the pretentious 
style of the churches, and the showy and in some in- 
stances well-executed paintings in the oratories. I 
should have liked to ask the reason why, of some one 
able to answer. Was the devotional feeling so absorb- 
ing as to leave no room for the exercise of that whole- 
some virtue — cleanliness? Or does the substitution of 
Papistry for religion deaden the instincts and percep- 
tions? It was a surprise to me to see two saw-mills in 
full work, among such dirty people. I met two or 
three women, who had quite a jaunty appearance in 
their holiday costume — a peaked hat, worn a little on 
one side, tight bodice, and short green skirt; all the 
others were as slatternly dowdies as may be seen in the 
frouzy alleys of London on a summer afternoon. But 
every one gave me a cheerful good-day as I passed. 

The Frodolfo, a brawling stream, zigzags mischiev- 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 137 

ously down the valley to join the Adda, overlooked by 
the road, or rather track, which — washed, and worn, 
and encroached on "by numerous landslips — winds along 
the hill-side. Snow peaks come in sight; and by-and-by 
the great white cone of the Suldner Ferner ; then a 
rocky gorge, where the river tumbles over a dam of 
huge boulders, half concealed by a graceful clump of 
birch and larch, and you enter a small oval vale, lying 
deep among the hills, containing about a dozen houses, 
a little chapel, the hotel (a large stone building) ; and 
Santa Caterina is before you. 

Signora Giacinta Clementi, as tidy and happy-looking 
a hostess as you would wish to see, received the letter 
with a smile. I found her writing entries in her day- 
book, in a little railed space at one corner of the 
kitchen, an apartment that served as taproom, and for 
many other purposes. The dresser, laden with a table- 
service and cooking utensils in abundance, was fitted 
below as a hencoop, running the entire length; and the 
fowls with which it was crammed kept up a mournful 
cackle, and stretched their heads out between the bars 
to pick up crumbs from the floor. At one end, the 
cook busied himself with plucking a chicken, beating 
eggs, and boiling chocolate ; a girl polished the stewpans, 
and two or three men sat sipping acquavita. 

My breakfast was served in the opposite room, where 
the guests were already playing at billiards, dominoes, 
and cards. The Giornale di Milano and other Italian 
newspapers, lay on the table; and in all a considerable 
space was given to news of the war. Presently, the 



138 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

Signora introduced a robust, elderly man — the guide — 
and a lady visitor, who being able to make herself 
understood in French, very politely offered to interpret 
my wishes. The guide knew every inch of the Gavia 
— could find his way in a fog— -would conduct me to 
Ponta di Legno, and carry my knapsack, for twelve 
zwanzigers. Would he go with me the next day over 
the Tonale? A guide was not needed for the Tonale 
Pass — it was easy; a disinterested answer, which pre- 
possessed me in his favour, and I accepted his terms. 
He, in turn, inquired whether I had " good legs," as 
six hours would be required for the journey; on which 
particular I satisfied him, and we arranged to start at 
noon. 

Next, the cook presented himself. He also could 
speak a little French, and, very unnecessarily, charged 
me to eat a good breakfast, as the Gavia was a fatiguing 
mountain, seldom crossed except by natives. We had 
only snatches of conversation, for he was called away 
repeatedly, but as often came back again. He could 
understand a stranger coming for the benefit of his 
health, but not to undergo the toil of climbing the 
mountains. There were about thirty guests in the 
hotel, and more were expected. No lack of good cheer, 
for supplies were sent from Bormio. The first wagon 
that brought the kitchen utensils, towards the end of 
June, would be eight hours or more travelling the 
eight miles to Santa Caterina, so bad was the road. 
Then, I must not think of leaving without tasting the 
water; and we walked to the spring, in a meadow 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 139 

about a hundred yards distant. It has the charm of 
naturalness; the water flows in a perpetual stream from 
a wooden spout inserted in a short post, forms a little 
basin, and shoots away across the grass, a sparkling rill, 
to join the turbid Frodolfo. The guests bring tum- 
blers in their hands, and walk up and down in the 
sunshine, while quaffing the healing draught, or under 
the rough log-shed, built close by, if it be rainy. The 
water sparkles in the glass with innumerable gas- 
bubbles of a yellowish tinge, and has a pleasant, lively 
flavour, exhilarating, as it seemed to me, in its effects. 
And seeing that art has done so little to interfere with 
nature in this lovely vale, the healing process should 
be the more beneficial. Here, grand scenery — Yal 
Forno branching off on the left, with wild slopes that 
tempt the wandering feet — and quiet, undisturbed save 
by the noise of winds and waters, aid in restoring the 
jaded mind or weakened frame. 

Punctually at twelve the guide came up, bringing 
two walking-staves. I put a large piece of bread in my 
pocket, and we started. Making for a gap between the 
hills on the right, we began at once to climb a shaggy 
slope, the ruggedness of which offered a foretaste of what 
was to follow. Almost immediately we came to patches 
of rhododendron and scrubby firs. Then a sudden de- 
scent into a deep, gravelly hollow, and across a little 
stream, Fiumo di Gavia y the guide called it, from whence 
the ascent rose uninterrupted before us. We continued 
to beguile the way with talk; for, besides my forty 
words already mentioned, the meanings of others came 



140 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

back to me on hearing them spoken ; and it surprised 
me to find how soon, by dint of effort and association, we 
got to understand one another. The old man hastened 
to tell me his name, Giacomo Compagnone, commonly 
known as, il Mulo. " If ever you come again," he said, 
" don't forget to ask for il Mulo. Tell that to your 
friends." His age was sixty ; and this his first trip for 
the season. Very few strangers passed the Gavia, 
especially Englishmen : they seldom came into these 
parts. The winter had been terrible, yet he thought 
we should find but little snow on the summit. He 
knew the mountains well, all over Tyrol and the fron- 
tier; could point out the direction of valleys, and was as 
well acquainted with all the paths as with the back of 
his hand. 

Meantime we had scrambled up the flank of the Pic 
Alto, past the frightful cliffs of Val Gavia, from which 
waterfalls leap to the depths beneath ; across ugly 
scars, where old gray pine-roots seem starting skeleton- 
like from the arid gravel ; and wild green slopes, 
browsed by sheep and cattle. Then we saw a horrid 
gorge, overhung by blasted firs, — the source of the Gavia, 
that rushes madly from its gloomy recesses. Presently 
Giacomo began to j'ddeln; and the shrill musical cry was 
returned from the opposite hill, half a mile distant, by a 
solitary shepherd — the first greeting of the season be- 
tween the two. At times the path ran close along the 
edge of the precipice, and we looked sheer down hun- 
dreds of feet into the valley below. In such places, Gia- 
como turned round and watched my movements. Then 
we passed the shepherd's hut, built in the hollow of a rock 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYEOL. 141 

— a dismal little shed, containing nothing but a bed of 
fir-branches, a stool and table of rough timber, and a store 
of polenta and cheese — the shepherd's abode from spring 
to autumn. At length we were high enough to look into 
Val Furva, which had been hidden in a few minutes after 
our start; and Giacomo pointed to his house, and contem- 
plated it for a while with affectionate gaze. He was excel- 
lent company, full of humour; and we laughed so much 
that breath well-nigh failed us for our upward progress. 
Always higher: we were mounting what may be 
described as a series of great steps, between a lofty 
ridge and the deep valley, achieving one elevation only 
to commence another; each wilder than the last, and 
commanding a wilder prospect. Far and wide roamed 
our eyes over grim crags and frozen peaks, savage and 
desolate beyond anything I had yet seen. All at once 
we were stopped by a broad and deep ridge of snow, 
stretching from the precipitous heights on our left, to 
the very extremity of a point in the cliff, that jutted as 
a headland into the valley. Giacomo shook his head, 
and plunged his staff into the yielding barrier. It was 
too soft to be trodden on : moreover, it lay at so sharp 
an angle that the effort to force a passage might have 
sent it sliding into the gulf. Being much too high for 
us to see over, Giacomo tried to peep round the foot of 
the ridge, with no better result than another shake of 
the head ; then cautiously getting over the edge of the 
precipice, he motioned me to wait, and made his way 
round on a ledge some feet below the brow. About 
five minutes elapsed, when he reappeared, without his 
coat, looking very serious, and evidently over-cautious, 



142 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

or very apprehensive. He proceeded to dig a path for 
me along the verge of the cliff; but not liking the 
slippery experiment, I let myself down to the ledge, 
which rough with lichen afforded good foothold ; and 
carefully retaining one grip till the next was fast, I got 
round and climbed up on the farther side. Giaconio 
watched me with anxious eye, and patted me on the 
back with a hearty "bravo" when the obstacle was 
passed. This was the only dangerous spot we met with ; 
but not the only difficulty, for now our greatest trials 
began. 

Presently another huge sloping drift, backed by a 
perpendicular cliff. Here Giacomo's experience came 
into play, and he led me through the crevice formed 
between the rock and the bank, by the melting of the 
snow, so narrow that we could only squeeze through 
sideways, unable to avoid the copious drip and the 
lumps of half-melted snow that fell upon us. We 
emerged at the foot of a glacier, which was so masked 
with dirt and rubbish, that to see the exquisite green and 
blue tints in its deep, gaping cracks was a very wonder 
by contrast. "Always thus," said Giacomo; "it never 
alters." Then we had to zigzag up another ridge, where, 
while crossing the snow, we heard a swift torrent rush- 
ing under our feet, and on through a wild glen of black 
dripping rocks, fringed with falls : so desolate and dreary ! 
Nothing in the shape of vegetation but mosses here and 
there in the hollows, and lichen growing on fantastic 
masses of stone, as if to keep them warm. In some 
places the ground quakes under the foot, and you splash 



OX FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 143 

through streaming flats, and feel grateful for the plank 
— Ponta di Preda — that enables you to cross a deep, 
sludgy brook. To escape from this damp and dismal 
glen, we had to climb. up the course of a waterfall, and 
take our chance of the splashing. 

A broad, shallow vale now stretched far before us : a 
great sweep of snow, broken by black mounds of turf; 
ridges of rock; jagged cliffs; drifts perpendicular as a 
wall, and dark stains, showing where half-frozen pools 
lay in the depressions. The clouds hung low and leaden ; 
the wind blew in fitful gusts, and howled mournfully 
round the mist-shrouded summits. Sounds like the 
flapping of mighty wings echoed from the crags, and 
altogether the scene appeared to me as the sublimity of 
sullenness. Giacomo stood still once more, shook his 
head, and took a careful survey : never had he seen so 
much snow so late in the season; and he made such 
queer gestures to deprecate censure of his prognostica- 
tions as to set me laughing; and, though it seemed out 
of place in such a scene, our merriment recommenced. 
Having decided on a course, he pointed to the pale 
ridge rising at the extremity of the vale, about a mile 
distant, and, patting me once more on the back, said, 
" Coraggio ! there's the summit." 

Warily the old fellow picked his way, for the snow 
was soft as well as deep, and we sank repeatedly up to 
our waists, and were not a little diverted by each other's 
efforts to scramble out again. Our staves, tapering up- 
wards, were broad as a crownpiece at bottom, which, 
not sinking easily, saved us at times from a plunge. 



144 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

Giacomo thought them preferable to the Swiss alpen- 
stock. The snow, for the most part, lay in stormy 
ripples, and I remarked that there was less risk of sink- 
ing by stepping on the top of the swell than in the 
hollows. Now we laboured up the slope to avoid a tract 
of quaking bog, then we trod cautiously between the 
rocks and a half-frozen pool ; but with all our care we 
fell through again and again into the clammy stratum 
beneath. These falls recurring every twenty or thirty 
paces, became at last very fatiguing ; still we did not 
lose heart, and found in our mishaps a continual source 
of amusement. As for Giacomo, he refused to believe 
that so much snow could yet be lying in July. His 
turnings round to see how I was getting on became less 
and less frequent, and to play him a trick I hid behind 
a rock. Presently he came floundering back, making 
such big round eyes, and looking so distressed, that I 
repented putting him to the trial. " Ah !" he exclaimed, 
flinging up his hands as soon as he saw me, " I thought 
you had fallen under the snow." 

Right glad we were, when, on approaching the ridge, 
we left the snow behind, although to exchange it for 
spongy turf, gravelly sludge, and lumps of rock lying 
about, imbedded in swamps. On the right spreads 
the Lago Bianco — White Lake : on the left rises the 
Corno dei Tre Signori — Dreiherrenspitz, in German — 
so named from its lofty cone being the point where the 
territories of three powers, Switzerland, Austria, and 
Venice, once met. You may cross its flank by a wild 






ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 145 

path to Pejo, and the baths of Rabbi on the Tyrolese 
side. 

At last we stood on the dividing point — the summit, 
but slightly elevated above the long broad furrow 
through which we had so painfully toiled; and except 
the satisfaction of looking back on this as a difficulty 
overcome, there was nothing cheering in the view. 
Nothing but a limited circle of white upheaved masses^ 
about twelve thousand feet high — Monte Gavia among 
them, frowning through drifting scud, — for the eye to 
rest on. 

Here we crossed the boundary of Bormio, and entered 
within that of Ponta di Legno, and came to the Lago 
Nero, a sheet of water as black as its name; and in a 
gorge on the right is the source of the Oglio, a stream 
that we shall accompany for the rest of the day. At 
first, the descent is very steep and stony, and every step 
becomes a blow, leaving a bruised sensation in the feet. 
At times we walked in and out among splintered crags, 
and came to a declivity, formed by long- accumulated 
layers of slate, across which the passage was not a little 
hazardous, for they slipped away when trodden on, and 
treated us to falls more to be feared than those in the 
snow. Then stunted 'firs appeared far below us, and 
presently we comforted our feet on patches of timid 
grass ; and Giacomo, with a chuckle, said, " Piu neve" 
— No more snow. 

Five hours since we started ! I began to feel hungry, 
and wish for a rest. A little lower, and we came to a 

L 



146 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

spring, bubbling forth from under a boulder, which, as 
the inscription tells, having been blessed by an Apos- 
tolic Father in 1671, is regarded as a holy fountain. 
From the clear, gravelly basin formed by a few slabs, 
the living water, sparkling even in the absence of the 
sun, leaps away down the slope, a prattling rill. Here 
reclining on cushions of green sward, I produced my 
piece of bread, Giacomo a piece of cheese, and we made 
an acceptable repast. And presently, with a knowing 
look, he brought out a small flask: it was filled with 
acquavita, of which he poured a small quantity into my 
india-rubber goblet, filled from the spring. The effect 
of the draught was magical ! A thrill of new life 
flashing through every limb carried off all sense of 
fatigue. Never before had I had such an experience 
of invigoration from a few drops of alcohol. 

The path leads down a spur of the mountain, covered 
in places with a long thread-like grass, from which 
Giacomo earnestly warned me, for it was more slip- 
pery and treacherous than ice. To see sheep grazing 
seemed like coming upon the rudiments of civilization. 
A little lower, and we had to cross and recross the many- 
branching stream, striding upon the big stones that 
offered footing; but crossing whether or no. Then, 
coming to Val Mazza, more rudiments, in the shape of 
a track that does duty as a road ; and two or three cot- 
tages — hovels rather, built of lumps of rock, with 
small holes left here and there for windows. At a dis- 
tance you would take them for mounds ; yet the inmates, 
tall and hardy-looking, betrayed no signs of ill-health 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 147 

or discontent. The dress of the men was identical with 
that we see on their congeners, the organ-grinders in 
London. Before we came up, Giacomo raised his shrill 
cry, and shouted, u II mulo ! II mulo /" and they all 
rushed out to give him the first greetings of the season, 
and to ask and tell the news. He stayed, however, but 
to light his pipe, for we could not tarry. 

Then Lake Silissi, a large expanse of water, choked 
all round its margin by dense beds of weeds and rushes ; 
and the river having drowned the track, we had to 
make another slant up the hill to the village of Pezzo. 
And such a village I Whether there should be a 
thoroughfare through it or not had manifestly formed 
no part of the original builders' plan, and their descen- 
dants, used to its tortuous ways and hoary inconveni- 
ences, are as indifferent to improvement as aldermen. 
You wonder how such a collection of weatherbeaten, 
shaky, patchy, tumble-down, dingy-looking houses can 
have been brought together, or got to stand against the 
wind for a week. But there they are, intersected by 
passages that lead nowhere ; outside stairs, loose and 
ricketty; projecting stages and balconies, tottering appa- 
rently to their fall, and galleries crossing like bridges 
from one to another. ' Here and there a room has been 
added, projecting right across the narrow street, its 
outer end resting on a row of piles, or a rough stone 
wall. The general style combines the shanty, loft, and 
cattle-lair, and you will not find it easy to distinguish 
one from the other. As we came near there was a 
clattering of feet; creaking of the ricketty stairs, and a 

l2 



148 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

rushing out upon the balconies and galleries which I 
expected to see give way every moment, for Giacomo 
had set up his cry of " II mulo I II mulo V from a dis- 
tance, and all the village started up with answering 
cries. From above and below, from front and rear, 
came the voices, " Nostro Giacomo ! Nostro Giacomo /" 
Fifty hands were held out for a shake ; as many sunburnt 
faces beamed with delight, and more questions were 
asked than any one man, even an Italian, could hope to 
answer. A dozen snuff-boxes were drawn forth, and 
Giacomo had to take a pinch from every one, while 
answering inquiries ; and urgent were the appeals made 
to him to stay the night ; but pointing to me as 
" that Signore" whom he had undertaken to conduct to 
Ponta di Legno, he made them aware that compliance 
was out of the question. I then came in for a share of 
their attention, — that their Giacomo had me in charge 
was a sufficient reason, and the snuff-boxes were offered to 
me, and hand-grips, with many a "buona sera:" and so, 
all through the village. I could have wished, though, that 
the dirt had not been as abounding as the demonstra- 
tions; and asked Giacomo, quietly, whether his friends 
washed their faces more than once a year. He thought 
they did. At any rate, their joy at sight of their old 
acquaintance was, perhaps, greater than it would have 
been at news of freedom for Italy. 

Then we came to fields of rye, bordered here and 
there by wild rosebushes; and to the village of Cassalia, 
where the same ovation hailed our arrival; and I was 
urged to stay the night, that Giacomo might have no 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 149 

excuse for declining their hospitalities. The necessity 
must have been great that would have made me volun- 
tarily lodge in such a smoky, dirty den, as one of the 
houses that I looked into. Such makeshift plenishing ! 
Then more fields, and a good road, and presently, as it 
grew dusk and the stars began to twinkle, we struck a 
footpath — a short-cut by the side of the river, and at 
nine o'clock came to Ponta di Legno. Giacomo was 
three hours out in his calculation; but he threw the 
blame on the " much snow," and giving me a final pat 
on the back, said, " You have walked well. You did 
not deceive me ; you have good legs." 

Unprepossessing is the aspect of the inn. The hostess 
and her daughter, both good-looking, but so unwashed 
and unkempt, hastened to light us into the sitting-room, 
and made voluble offers of refreshment and service — 
too voluble, indeed, for my unaccustomed ear ; and 
Giacomo had to interpret. I could have anything. 
A steak, then. But Thursday night is the eve of Fri- 
day, and not an ounce of meat was to be got in the 
village ; so I fell back on soup, eggs, bread, and wine. 
Nimbly did the lassie run to and fro to wait on me, 
making a journey for each separate article; and all 
who were in the houSe came in to have a look at me. 

My soup resembled nothing so much as thin melted 
butter, slightly rancid, with pieces of bread floating in 
it. Hunger, however, inspired me with confidence. 
All the household assembled at the foot of the stairs to 
see me go up to bed, and as I passed, the hostess, who 
had carried up my cold bath, asked if she should come 



150 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

and wash rny feet. As I returned a thankful no, a 
general " buona notte " followed me, with a touch of 
sympathy in the tone. If the bedroom was somewhat 
dusky, the sheets, though coarse, were clean; and 
sound sleep, in less than two minutes after my head 
was on the pillow, ended all misgivings as to anything 
else. 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 151 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Village Life at early Morn — Giacomo's Farewell — A Mason Haymaker 
— Among the Fir-trees — St. Bartholomew's Chapel — The Tonale — 
Re-enter Tyrol — A Forest Walk — A Timber Fall — Val Vermiglio — 
Vermigliano — "Wine and Eggs — More Honesty — Female Curiosity — 
A lazy Lover — Romps with the Baby — Paper-money again — Pic- 
turesque Scenery — Osanna — Pellizzano — Traders' Signs — Mezzano — 
Piano — Male — The Piazza — Civic Recreations — The Velocifero — Ar- 
chitecture— Caldes — The Nos — Cles — Time to Breakfast— Silk-mills — 
Street Life — Good Books — Bad Cutlery — Bare Mulberry-trees — Mezzo 
Lombardo — Time to dine — Factory Girls — Rabbi Water — Lavis — 
Gradolo — Trent — Aspect of the City — Hungarian Troops — The Church 
of the Council — The Cathedral Square — Priests and Priestlings — The 
Concordat— Marketing— The Cafe— The Minstrel— A Bit of Politics— 
Pergine — Lake Caldonazzo — Calzeranica — Devouring Heat — Vigolo — 
Card-players — Sunday on the Boulevard — A transmuted Name. 

The sight of a bright sun and blue sky — of swallows 
skimming and twittering round the tall, floridly -painted 
church spire, cheered me when I woke. Though five 
had but just struck, trains of mules and pack-oxen were 
already passing to or from the Pass of the Tonale. Men 
were leading their beasts through the low archways 
under the houses, and harnessing them to the wagons; 
and women, with a kerchief tied round their head, so as 
to hang down behind in two tails, were fetching water 
from the fountain in bright copper buckets. And now 



152 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

I could see the village by daylight. It is an improve- 
ment on Pezzo. The houses are of stone ; some with 
Venetian shutters, or gratings, and iron balconies; and 
here and there a dung-heap close by the side of the 
entrance : and on the left the bridge — Ponta di Legno 
— under which the river roars its ceaseless music. 

I was just preparing to start, when Giacomo, who 
had been to sleep at a friend's house, came in, saying, 
" I could not go back without another good-bye ; let 
me go a little way with you ;" so we crossed the bridge, 
and had soon left the village behind, its stone houses 
succeeded by straggling wooden outskirts. The road 
rises gently to the foot of the first zigzag, near which, 
before I was aware, Giacomo took my hand and kissed 
it, with superabundant expressions of thankfulness, and 
with many an " addio " we parted. He intended to 
journey easily back to Santa Caterina, taking time to 
see his friends on the way, and perhaps to pass the 
night at Pezzo. The honest old fellow had quite won 
my esteem, and I felt sorry that he had to retrace his 
steps all alone across the dreary Gavia. 

From the top of the rise you can see Ponta di Legno, 
lying pleasantly in a hollow at the entrance of two val- 
leys, where the Narcanello falls into the Oglio, — all shut 
in by hills, among which the Rochetta and some other 
peaks rise to a height of more than ten thousand feet, 
their snowy coronets shining afar. And in the deep, 
broken shades between, your eye follows the line of the 
Val Camonica some distance down towards Edolo, 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 153 

whither runs the road to Milan, the slopes here and 
there dotted with gleaming villages. 

Here the haymakers were busy with their first crop ; 
and the rye-fields showed no tint of yellow. Wheat 
is grown in small quantities, remaining only five 
months in the ground. One of the men, who could 
speak a little French, told me he had once worked as a 
mason in Paris, but pined for his native village, and so 
returned. It was better here; he could till his field 
and tend his goat, and perhaps some day have a sheep 
or two : a cow was far beyond his hopes. True, he 
could earn two francs a day at his trade ; but then it 
was so seldom in request ; and, after all, if a man could 
get bread, and eggs, and salad all the summer, ought 
he not to be content ? If it were not for the terrible 
winter, with its deep snow and bitter cold, there would 
be nothing to complain of. It seems that people who 
live among the mountains become of necessity philo- 
sophers. 

Then up at once among the fir-trees, where the dew 
hangs thickly on the ferns, grasses, and scattered bar- 
berry bushes that clothe the sides of the cuttings, and 
the stiff, glittering branches overhead throw down a 
green and grateful shade — for the heat is already fierce, 
and the whole landscape looks glorious under the 
twinkling sunbeams ; and as you rise higher between 
the firs, you breathe their fresh, aromatic, and resinous 
scent with a sense of exhilaration. After the snows of 
yesterday, your eye rests with pleasure on the masses 



154 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

of green, though composed of hardy vegetation. Be- 
fore night we shall be once more among the vines. 

The side of the mountain is so very abrupt that the 
zigzags are steeper than any on the Stelvio. The road, 
however, is good, and the recurring patches of shadow 
are refreshing. At length you emerge from the trees, 
leaving the valley of the Narcanello, and turn into a 
vale, between Monte Piscanno and Monte Tonale, 
which widens into rolling slopes and broad levels of 
pasture-land, and all the toil of the ascent is left be- 
hind. The hills on either side are green to their 
summits, and you see only a few streaks of snow, and 
here and there a glimpse of a distant peak or glacier: 
and nearer, cottages standing in meadows bright with 
flowers and lively brooks ; and many sheep and 
cattle grazing. Then a few stunted hornbeams, and 
banks of rhododendron, rising almost imperceptibly, 
till all at once the road comes to an end, and there is 
nothing but an uneven mule- track across the sward. 
Presently, a chapel dedicated to St. Bartholomew; a 
public-house and its appurtenances — a resting-place for 
travellers. I saw no living thing about, except a dog, 
and having no desire to halt, kept on, and in another 
furlong, coming to a few iron crosses nailed on wooden 
posts, had passed from Lombardy again into Tyrol. 
These mark the summit, an elevation of more than six 
thousand feet. Some four hundred years ago, when 
the Val Camonica belonged to Venice, there used to 
be fierce skirmishes here between the Austrians and 
Venetians ; and later, in the wars of the Tyrolese and 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 155 

French. The ground continues comparatively level for 
about a mile ; the descent then begins. Grand moun- 
tain-ranges open in the distance. You come to a few 
more hornbeams, a stone cross that commemorates the 
death of an unfortunate wayfarer, in 1853 ; then to slopes 
sprinkled by firs, and, ere long, to a thick forest of 
larches. Down sinks the track into a deep gorge, and, 
winding hither and thither under jutting rocks, past 
mossy nooks and dripping cliffs, delights you with its 
variety. I sauntered — sat down on the edge of gullies ; 
looked up at the quivering maze overhead, or down- 
ward through the narrow openings into the valley. 
Very gladsome is the impression left on my mind by 
the stroll beneath those plumed larches. 

Anon a lively bubbling — the voice of a rill, which 
taking a wanton course, will grow to a river ere 
our day's walk is over. Then you see a portion 
of Val Vermiglio, as the upper end of Val Sole is 
called — the most picturesque in Italian Tyrol, and 
every bend of the path brings you nearer to it. Then 
a peep up a side valley— long clouds of forest, backed 
by a glacier. High above your head, in places that 
seem inaccessible, lie the peeled fir-stems, glistening in 
the sun, ready for the shoot. A few yards farther, and 
in a ravine on the left you see a great heap of stems, 
that have been shot down the rocky bed of the cascade, 
thrown together in apparently inextricable confusion; 
some broken in two, and all with their ends bruised 
and splintered. Then gangs of men at work, deep 
down in the glen on the right, quarrying the face of a 



156 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

cliff, sawing timber, carrying stones on barrows, throw- 
ing refuse into the chasms: they are making a broad 
new road, which is to cross the Tonale and join the one 
we left on the opposite side ; and two years hence, 
tourists and travellers will be able to ride over with- 
out fatigue in their carriages. But the old track will 
always command the finest views, and be the shortest 
for one on foot. More and more the valley opens: a 
charming prospect of chateaux, churches, and villages, 
and fruitful slopes of vines. As in the Montavonerthal, 
the men are obliged to swarm off every year in search 
of subsistence. Lizards glide across the path and flit 
about on the banks, and you begin to feel a sensible in- 
crease of temperature. At Ponta di Legno the rye was 
still green — here the fields are yellow, and women 
busy with the harvest. Then a magnificent waterfall, 
thundering down a gorge on the left, of which you 
have a delightful view while crossing the bridge. 
Then Vermigliano, a village in two or three scattered 
portions, those below presenting you with an extra- 
ordinary sight of roofs, sloping every way, leaving 
nothing visible beneath, and apparently without an in- 
terval between one and the other. 

Here I was glad to stay and dine, after my long walk 
and early breakfast. Friday's rigour was in full force : 
nothing available but eggs, bread, and butter. In hot 
weather I like to drop an uncooked egg into half a 
tumbler of wine, and enjoy the smooth, delicious cool- 
ness as it slips down the throat, and had recourse to 
the process on this occasion, greatly to the astonishment 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 157 

of the landlord and his family. Never had they heard 
of eggs being eaten in that way. The wine has an 
agreeable flavour; but must be drunk on the spot, as it 
will not bear transport. For a quart, and six eggs, and 
as much bread and butter" as I could eat — which was 
not a little, under the circumstances — I paid forty-six 
kreutzers — fifteenpence only. Moreover, on producing 
my coin, the worthy folk told me the zwanziger was 
reckoned as thirty kreutzers in the Val Sole, which was 
to me a saving of fifty per cent. ; and I think the fact 
worth mentioning, as a proof that in one part of the 
world honesty dwells with innkeepers. 

I was an object of curiosity to the hostess : she walked 
round and round me, at a little distance, inspecting me 
from head to foot, making now and then a remark to 
her daughter, who sat by the window sewing. Then 
she took up the skirt of my coat, examined it on both 
sides, and expressed her astonishment at the fineness of 
the cloth. Did everybody in England wear such ? The 
alpaca lining puzzled her. What was it? She had 
never seen the like before. Was it silk? Such a coat 
must cost very much money. And she was still more 
astonished when I told her that most people in England 
wore better coats; mine being only a cheap one, for 
rough work among the mountains. " What then must 
the finest be!" she exclaimed. 

Facing the damsel at the window sat a lover, after 
the manner of Dumbiedikes, with hands in pockets, 
mouth a little open, and half-closed eyes, watching his 
betrothed as she plied her needle. Not a word did he 



158 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

speak; but every five minutes during my two hours' 
stay he went through the effort of taking a pinch of 
snuff. I was determined to make him talk if possible, 
and put a question. The answer came with a struggle ; 
but the second was easier, and after that, as he could 
speak a queer kind of Italianized German, we got on 
pretty well. He had been working on the railway 
being made from Verona to Trent and Botzen ; and 
finding the heat intolerable, and having a dread of 
cholera, had thought it desirable to treat himself to 
a holiday in the cooler temperature of Vermigliano. 

" Of course, not to see your sweetheart," I said : 
whereupon he looked silly, and translated my remark 
into Italian, for the damsel's benefit. She retorted with 
a few words that made him look yet sillier. 

u But it's frightfully hot down at Trent," he rejoined, 
turning to me, and in his excitement actually taking 
one hand from his pocket. 

I asked him if he had ever heard of the man who 
€Ould eat well, drink well, and sleep well, but whose 
strength failed him when he came to work? which he 
also rendered into the vernacular ; and when the dark- 
cheeked maiden heard it, she almost rolled off the chair 
with laughing. The merriment spread : a woman who 
had come in to buy bread took it up ; the cocks 
and hens that were walking in and out set up a lively 
cackle ; and I quite won the landlady's heart by holding 
her baby, a plump, black-eyed boy, while she served 
the customer. He had a good lesson in English romps 
before he went back to the maternal arms; so that when, 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 159 

soon afterwards, I slung on my knapsack and prepared 
to depart, I was entreated to eat the remaining six eggs } 
the other half-loaf, and the rest of the butter, without 
further payment. I quoted our adage — " Enough is 
enough ;" and with comprehensive hand-shakings took 
my farewell. 

u You'll find it hot, too, when you get to Trent," 
cried the unlucky " navvy," as I left the room, at the 
same time taking out his snuff-box for the twenty-fifth 
pinch since noon. 

As I went down the steps, the landlord, who was 
coming up, showed me a dirty, crumpled, ten-kreutzer 
note, with an air of mystery; and said in a low tone, 
" Paper money goes here," as if he were a little ashamed 
of the rag currency. 

The church here is a spacious edifice, handsomely 
decorated with marble ; and many new stone houses 
replace the wooden ones, perhaps in anticipation of 
increased traffic when the new road shall be finished. 
But the propensity to build all across the road, leaving 
only a passage-way for small vehicles, seems inevitable. 
Many of the wooden houses are really grotesque in 
appearance ; and I could hardly believe their construc- 
tion to be other than- the result of accident. 

Still descends the rough track along the hill-side, and 
reach after reach of the valley comes into view, with 
more of cultivation and more villages ; some perched 
on the heights, others in embowered hollows below, 
washed by the stream, that has already grown rapid and 
broad enough to work mischief. And such picturesque 



160 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

hills enclose the valley: here gleaming with silvery 
threads of running water, there pale with a deluge of 
stones ; there flush with vines and beechen groves, and 
teeming fields, terraced in places, even to the open 
patches among the firs on the summit. 

And here and there a far-off rocky peak shows a 
few slender streaks of snow, to remind you of the wintry 
regions, and heighten the contrast; and every minute 
the purple shadows change, and the tints on the crags 
alter as the sun rolls westwards. 

" Ah ! that such beauty varying in the light 
Of living nature, cannot be portrayed 
By -words, nor by the pencil's silent skill ; 
But is the property of him alone 
Who hath beheld it, noted it with care, 
And in his mind recorded it with love." 

At Osanna, a village of busy mills and other cheerful 
signs of industry, you drop down to the bottom of the 
valley and a hotter temperature, and feeling this, you 
will, perhaps, wish to be spared the hottest. Courage ! 
There is a charming little bit on the right, the Castel 
d'Osanna, on the top of an eminence, that swells from 
the slope, engirdled with copse, and rocks peeping from 
the bright-green turf. Seen against the darksome 
gorge in the rear, the ruined walls and tall, square 
towers have a romantic effect. Now you find the river 
brawling where a long piece of the road ought to be ; 
and you cross from side to side of the valley, passing 
Fuccine, Cusiano, Pellizzano, so frequent are the vil- 
lages, and in each you will see something characteristic. 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 161 

The wine-merchant's sign betokens considerable trade, 
wholesale and retail — Vendita di Vino in grosso 
e in MINUTO — as he expresses it. Peep into his ware- 
house, you will see scores of barrels. Another tempts 
you with a placard — Birra di Innsbruck, freschis- 
sima — the very, very coolest of Innsbruck beer. A real 
temptation, seeing that the valley becomes hotter at 
every half-mile. Here and there you see a chateau ; 
a square, solid edifice of stone, with a wooden roof, in 
the midst of a square garden ; built, if appearances may 
be trusted, to combine the essentials of a fortress as 
well as a home. Look at the tall blossoming peas and 
scarlet-runners in the cottage gardens. Did you ever 
believe them capable of such luxuriance ? 

At Mezzano you come to large fields of maize, and 
a smooth, broad road ; and at Piano, a mile or two 
farther, to groves of walnut-trees ; the changing vegeta- 
tion adding to the interest of your walk. Some of the 
wagons here, as you see, are nothing more than a long, 
narrow basket hung between two poles. As evening 
drew on the church bells were all set a-ringing for a 
few minutes, from high and low, and far and near, and 
the musical sounds pealed sweetly over the valley, and 
prolonged their existence among the echoes. Then 
Monteclassico on a commanding site, and Croviana, 
and at last, as the clocks were striking seven, I got to 
Male, the principal village of the upper valley. The 
Corona, at one corner of the Piazza, or square, affords 
decent quarters, and the Kellnerinn speaks German. 
Here, only those who like keep the fast-day, and no 

M 



162 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

scruple was offered to my having roast mutton for 
supper. 

Male has the air of a little town. You see a few 
patches of paving, and indications of Parisian influence 
in the dress of some of the people. I stretched myself 
on a cushion by the window and looked out into the 
Piazza to see what the folk did with their evening. A 
few gendarmes lounged about the entrance to the 
Caserma on one side; a numerous party, comprising 
the notary, functionaries military and civil, half a dozen 
of the chief tradesmen,, and three or four young ex- 
quisites, sat around the open front of the cafe, sipping 
their cup of coffee or glass of liqueur, while eight or ten 
others played at bowls in the centre. They kept up the 
game assiduously, though with but poor results; appa- 
rently as well pleased with the rough, stony surface of 
the square as an Englishman with his closely-shaven 
bowling-green : their movements all the while freely 
criticised by spectators at the windows, who burst into 
uproarious shouts of laughter. After about an hour 
they joined the party at the cafe, and a troop of boys 
seizing the balls had a game after their manner. Then 
with the approach of dusk came mothers, converging 
from every street and alley, to lead away their children 
unwillingly to bed; and louder waxed the talk round 
the cafe, with more of volubility and gesticulation than 
would have appeared among a hundred Englishmen. 

Having crossed three mountains on three successive 
days, I thought myself entitled to give my legs a little 
rest, and took a place for Trent in the Velocifero, a 



OK FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 163 

species of omnibus with an open coupe. We started 
the next morning at five. Strange was the aspect of 
the square: the whole range of ground-floors nothing 
but so much dead wall, relieved only by the flush-fitting, 
clumsy doors, all now closely shut. The windows are 
all above, but in the upper story are left unglazed, and 
you can see through to the wooden wall at the back ; the 
top of the house being apparently a mere open loft. In 
some the openings are filled with pots of handsome 
flowers. And the walls surprise you by their great 
strength, three or four feet thick at the bottom, and 
tapering away upwards as a buttress. 

I had time to note these particulars while the driver 
and his wife harnessed the horses, and punctually as the 
clock struck we set off at a heavy jog-trot. I had the 
front seat, and was the only passenger. At the first 
village we stopped at a Vendita di Vino, where the 
driver thundered at the door, roused the inmates and all 
the neighbourhood, just that he might get a drink and 
light his cigar. Nothing but Italian spoken, and neither 
soft nor harmonious, to rebuke the disturber. Then 
Caldes, and its castle on the height, and a hasty view 
from the lofty bridge while crossing the gorge of the 
river Nos. Presently, another halt: a piece of string 
was wanted to mend the harness, and the driver finding 
nothing better suited to his purpose, took the cord off 
a parcel among the baggage, and lashed the broken 
strap. More and more walnut-trees every mile as we 
approached Val Non, the vines more bountiful, and 
vegetation richer. And such glorious hills on either 
M2 



164 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

side, so varied in form and feature that the eye never 
wearies in gazing on them. And now long lines of 
mulberry-trees border the road ; and coming to Cles, 
the chief town of the valley, though dull withal, we 
stop at the Eagle to breakfast. 

What a charm in leisurely travelling! No eager 
haste over your repast, but time to eat, think, and 
saunter. I took a quiet stroll ; looked in at the silk- 
mills, where a hundred barefooted girls, with well-kept 
heads of hair that a princess might have envied, were 
plying their busy" task. The bookseller was binding 
books just within his door, having shop and workshop 
all in one. Judging from his stock, the reading of 
Cles is by no means amusing : Legends and Lives of 
the Saints, and devotional books, among which the 
Way to Paradise appears to be the favourite, are the 
only subjects shown in the windows. Nothing offensive, 
if appearances may be trusted, to the new Concordat. 
The shoemaker had brought his bench into the street, 
and sat stitching his leather in the pleasant breeze. 
Scarcely a shop without a tall, narrow glass-case on the 
door-post, exhibiting specimens of the wares ; and the 
ironmonger displays on a board spoons, candlesticks, 
knives and forks, and other articles, so badly finished 
and misshapen, that an English " Cheap Jack " would 
scorn to carry such. And under the awning of the 
cafe there already lounged the everlasting group : early 
or late you are sure to see loungers round the coffee- 
house in foreign towns. I saw one case of goitre ex- 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 165 

traordinarily large, which the unfortunate possessor 
endeavoured to conceal by an ample flowing beard. 

At length a shout summoned me back to the Eagle, 
and forsaking the vehicle that had brought us from 
Male, we resumed our journey in a Velocifero of bril- 
liant paint, scarlet curtains, soft cushions — such, indeed, 
as befits a city. The road takes a southerly direction, 
and the landscape puts on more of the southern aspect. 
Great quantities of silk are produced in the valley, and 
you see the efTects in the bare and blighted appearance 
of the mulberry-trees, which have been stripped of their 
leaves to feed silkworms. A deformity amid the general 
verdure. Then across the river to a deep hollow, an 
amphitheatre of vines and ruddy cliffs, in which we 
zigzagged for half an hour before emerging at the oppo- 
site corner, which had seemed so near. More silk-mills, 
and maize taller than ever. At Tuenno begins a Ions; 
descent, commanding views of marvellous beauty; an- 
cient ruins here and there on the heights, rising from a 
sea of foliage. Then a watch-tower on a cliff at the 
entrance of a ravine — the Pass of Rochetta — through 
which the river struggles, hemmed in by road and preci- 
pice. One of those scenes of rock, wood, and water, 
that make the mountain land wondrous. At eleven we 
reach Mezzo Lombardo, a large, town-like village, close 
under the hills; so close, indeed, that in places the 
blue and green ridges appear to overhang the street; 
and here we have a halt of an hour and a half for 
dinner. 



166 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

The girls of the silk-factor y are going home to their 
dinner, each with a decanter of wine in her hand, or a 
crock of coffee. All shoeless, yet not one without a large 
ornamental pin or comb in her smooth and shining hair. 
They all walk in single file along the narrow strip of 
shade at one side of the street, for the sun looks down 
with overpowering ray, and the stones glow again with 
the heat. 

The dining-room swarms with flies, notwithstanding 
that it is kept darkened. They are an intolerable pest. 
The driver, fancying himself somewhat of an invalid, 
brings a bottle of " Rabbi water " to drink with his 
wine. It has a flavour of ink and rusty iron; not too 
disagreeable, perhaps, when fresh and cool from the 
spring, but absolutely nauseous after hours of exposure 
to a high temperature in the seat of a Velocifero. 
Among the bills posted up on the walls of the room, 
one announces characteristically on the part of the 
traffic-managers that the conveyance will not run when 
" the road is interrupted by the waters, or by any other 
insurmountable obstacle." There is plenty of time for 
another stroll, and to look at the out-door auction, that 
has the appearance of being a sale under a distress for 
rent, in the full glare of the sun. Very primitive- 
looking furniture ; and more numerous than all the rest 
are copper utensils, for which a few country-folk bid 
timidly. 

When we prepared to start again, the driver sprang 
up from his seat as if he had sat on a blazing coal; for 
the sun shining on -his leathern cushion all the time of 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 167 

our stay, had heated it beyond even the endurance of a 
southerner. We jogged on at the same easy pace, and 
at Mezzo Tedesco crossed the Adige, broadened to a 
noble stream in its course from Glurns, where I last 
saw it. Hotter and hotter grows the day, and while 
we stop at Lavis I take a delicious draught at the 
fountain. The chink of glasses and rattle of balls in 
the Caff e e Bigliardo testifies as to the way in which 
some of the residents are whiling away the sultry 
hours; and others sit under the awning cooling them- 
selves with birra doppia — double X. Then Gradolo, 
from whence the towers of Trent are visible at the end 
of a long straight road shut in by stone walls — the 
usual dusty, roasting approach to a continental town, 
than which nothing can be more uncomfortable for a 
pedestrian. Presently we see the bold curve of the 
river washing the foot of the walls : one of the points 
from which the city looks imposing and is seen to best 
advantage, while hills on hills rise all around, their 
height indicated by the streaks of snow on their sum- 
mits. And from slope to slope all across the valley 
spreads a sea of foliage : vines wantonly luxuriant, mul- 
berry, pomegranate, apple, and apricot- trees, teeming 
with fruit ; and acres of maize, with the graceful, droop- 
ing tassels ; and every spot of ground so thickly planted 
as to appear dense with vegetation. Now we stop at 
the San Martino gate, and a carabineer demands my 
passport. It is in my knapsack, stowed away in the 
imperial on the roof. I tell him so, but he is incredu- 
lous, and while it is being reached down, says to a 



168 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

comrade, " Forse non e vero" — Perhaps it isn't true. 
However, I quickly place it in his hands: then — 
Where shall I alight? and whither go? "Which ques- 
tions being answered, we rattle over the stones, and I 
alight at the Corona. We had been ten hours in 
coming from Male. 

I was soon out again for a stroll through the town. 
Its style and aspect are Italian. Here and there you 
see a German name over a door ; all the rest, and the 
handbills and proclamations posted on the walls, are 
Italian. Some of the streets have arcades — pleasant to 
walk under in scorching weather. Everywhere cooling 
drinks offered in great variety, and apricots twelve a 
penny. No lack of life and movement in the streets; 
but what numbers of priests and soldiers ! Wherever 
you look you see one or the other. There marches a 
detachment to relieve guard — all Hungarians, in canvas 
coatees, and tight, blue hosen. The latter, dear to the 
wearers as the kilt to a Highlander. White linen 
trousers were once issued for summer wear; but the 
Huns could not part with their woollen tights, and wore 
them under the linen. I crossed the bridge to Con- 
trada Tedesca : the river here is wide and swift, and 
sweeps round the curve with a grand effect, heightened 
by the tall square and round towers conical-roofed, that 
rise here and there along the wall. Some of the houses, 
chateau-like in appearance, look out upon the stream ; 
and on the opposite slopes, embosomed in trees, gleam 
the white walls of pretty villas, and gardens and vine- 
yards are creeping up the hills behind. 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 169 

I left scarcely a street unvisited, and but few of the 
fifteen churches. In that of Santa Maria Maggiore — 
where the famous Council sat for eighteen years, as if 
they knew what was best, in a vain attempt to circum- 
scribe human thought, and to make of theology a sta- 
tionary science — you may see a picture on the wall of 
the priestly gathering. A physiognomist might read 
their characters from their portraits. Wily masters of 
the human heart many of them, finding it easier to 
mystify that than to coerce the conscience ; and some 
who, if we may judge by looks, foresaw that though 
Luther died the year after they came together, his work 
would not die with him. The whole number who 
attended the Council from first to last was two hundred 
and one; all Italians, except two Germans and one 
Englishman. 

Through the Piazza and Piazetta del Duomo — the 
big and little square of the cathedral. The centre of 
the large one is adorned by a handsome fountain, and 
a brook runs across, by the side of which some thirty 
or forty women were on their knees, scrubbing and 
cleaning lamps, stewpans, candlesticks, and sundry 
cooking utensils, treating themselves at the same time 
to a comfortable gossip in the hot sun. Merrily goes 
the work when tongues run freely. The cathedral 
itself is a squat mass of warm tints, being built of a 
ruddy brown marble, abundant in the neighbourhood. 
Inside you see paintings along the wall under the 
clerestory windows, and in the compartments of the 
roof; and monumental statues, and sculptured tombs, 



170 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

and other ecclesiastical rarities; and an altar standing- 
isolated beneath the dome, elaborately ornamented, and 
surrounded by heavy columns — a work of imposing 
appearance. But the general effect is spoiled by the 
great pillars of the nave being hung round with red dra- 
peries — as if anything could look better than the naked 
masonry of the clustering columns. The edifice dates 
from about the same period as our Westminster Hall ; 
and, as history tells, has been turned to account in the 
great scheme of going to heaven made easy. 

I was amazed at the number of black gowns and 
uniforms that I met during my perambulation : eccle- 
siastics in various stages of development, some leading 
files of priestlings, who already walk sedately and look 
grave. It would not be difficult to imagine the town 
peopled by clergy and soldiers, with just a few labourers 
and traders to provide for their wants. The actual 
population is about twenty thousand. Booksellers' 
shops are more numerous than I should have expected; 
but, as at Cles, nearly all the books shown in the win- 
dows are on religious subjects. Among the exceptions 
I noticed an Italian translation of the first two volumes 
of Macaulay's History. There is no lack of engravings 
of the Madonna and the Saints, and these are subjects 
with which the Concordat will not interfere; but I 
should like to know whether it has put the extinguisher 
over the book which tells so much truth about that good 
son of the Church, James the Second. 

Booksellers' shops may now be visited all over the 
Austrian Empire at the pleasure of the bishops. To 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYKOL. 171 

buy, sell, lend, or keep a prohibited book is alike punish- 
able; and woe to him who attempts to circulate the 
Scriptures, the perusal of which is fraught more with 
harm than good to the reader — at least, a Papal bull 
says so. Booksellers found transgressing the Index are 
subject to various penalties, and forbidden to carry on 
their trade. The State has no longer control over the 
property of the Church, or matters of doctrine or disci- 
pline; and the Church is to be the prime authority in 
education and in contracts of marriage. 

That which the famous Council failed to accomplish 
is now to be carried out by the Concordat, although 
the empire contains some four or five millions who are 
not Roman .Catholics. To make assurance sure, one of 
the articles declares " all the laws, ordinances, and ac- 
commodations which have hitherto been in force in the 
empire, and in the separate dominions of Austria, shall 
be held to be abrogated in so far as they are at variance 
with this Concordat :" and such is to be the law " for 
ever." 

Will people eat, drink, and be merry under such a 
surrender of civil rights, or will they wonder whether 
Old Time may not have pushed them back into the 
days of Hildebrand ? 

Being Saturday evening, the life and bustle in the 
streets gradually increased. The marketing grew brisk 
— cheese and cherries, apricots, lettuces, beans, bread 
and sausage in slices, the articles most in request. And 
everywhere, as the sun fell below the hills, the shutter- 
blinds were thrown open to admit the cooler breeze, 



172 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

and little groups appeared at the windows. I took a 
seat at a cafe and watched the moving throngs, and 
was struck by their general silent behaviour. There 
was none of that noisy excitement so often witnessed 
in an English town on a Saturday night. How rapid 
was the demand for ices among the party around me, 
and how the eaters dallied with the cooling morsels! 
Some dropped their ice into a large glass of water and 
added a glass of rum, and sipped the draught with 
keen relish. Fathers brought their wives and children 
to sit for a few minutes, eat an ice, and chat with a 
neighbour. The heat, and the occurrence of two cases 
of cholera in the city, were the chief topics of conversa- 
tion. None of the ladies had on cap or bonnet; a few, 
who seem to be of the aristocratic sort, wear a light 
gauzy scarf, or an elegant lace veil hanging down from 
the back of the head. Presently the lamplighter came, 
carrying a cumbrous folding step-ladder, as wide as an 
orchard ladder, and lit the swinging lamps, that soon 
glimmered one beyond the other in narrow streets 
opening from the square. Then sounded the roll and 
rattle of Hungarian drums, and small troops of the blue 
tights march past to relieve guard, each with his cloak 
made into a long blue roll tied together at the ends, 
slung crosswise from his shoulder. Then came a min- 
strel, who, taking his stand in a deep shadow, sang two 
or three songs in a rich melodious voice, accompanied 
by a guitar, and in a way that elicited bravos and 
kreutzers. Great was the throng of men and women 
with market baskets that stayed to listen. 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYEOL. 173 

As the owner of the cafe could speak French, I got 
into a chat with him, when the dropping of! of cus- 
tomers left him at leisure. Whether he spoke as he 
thought, I know not. So far as he knew, the people 
were passably content; but there had been terrible 
work in 1848. Some of the chief inhabitants of the 
city who sympathized with the rising in Italy were 
shot without mercy. To hum the popular song, 

" Fratelli d'ltalia !" 

was sufficient to ensure being made an example of. 
One eminent Signore, of ample fortune, offered thou- 
sands of florins for his life. u No ; you shall die with 
the rest." Life being denied, he prayed, making the 
same offer, for at least decent burial. " No ; dogs 
must die like dogs. The others shall be shot before 
your eyes : then comes your turn, and like a dog shall 
you be buried, in a hole with the rest." The sentence 
was literally carried out, and for a while made a pro- 
found impression. 

He believed that most people wished well to England 
and France in the war with Russia, but Austria was 
not to be expected to join : she could not afford it. 
" Every soldier cost's her a heavy florin a day, and you 
can understand why 200,000 men were disbanded only 
a few weeks ago. And still there are 450,000 under 
arms ; and think what they cost. We hear that new 
taxes are to be laid on : a prospect that does not add to 
our gaiety." 

To a remark I made on the number of priests, he 



174 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

replied, " Ah ! we could spare a few." And did he 
think the people were any the better for such a multi- 
tude? " My faith !" with a grimace, " who knows?" 

On my return to the Corona I found the dining- 
room crowded with guests at supper; among them a 
considerable sprinkling of military officers, in white 
and gray uniforms, all animated and talkative: and 
three minstrels, of whom one, an elegantly -dressed 
damsel, kept up the vivacity with song, violin, and 
guitar; unheeding the sudden storm that broke over 
the city, the rain pouring, the blue lightning flashing, 
and the loud thunder rolling, as only to be seen and 
heard in the sunny south. 

My passport had been brought from the guard-house, 
signed for Bolsano, into which the Italians emasculate 
Botzen. I could have journeyed to Venice from Trent 
in a day, but on reflection I would not pay a mere 
flying visit to the city of the lagoons ; so, having spent 
a fortnight in travelling thus far, I allowed myself the 
same time for the homeward travel. 

Wishing to see as much as possible of the environs of 
Trent, I started the next morning for a ramble into the 
country. The ground was as dry as if no rain had 
fallen; and, while crossing the esplanade of the castle, 
I felt, though yet early, the foretoken of a blazing day. 
And how much more when beyond the gate, and 
creeping up the hill on the road to Pergine! The 
scorching glare was well-nigh intolerable, as if every- 
thing around were metallic and intensely heated; and 
the effect seemingly increased by the ceaseless chirp of 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 175 

swarms of grasshoppers and locusts. Every tuft of 
grass, and every twig and branch, vocal with the stri- 
dent sounds. However, if somewhat distressing, there 
is something in the view to compensate you for the 
heat. Looking back on the city from the bend in the 
road, you see how luxuriant is its environment. Such 
groves of mulberries, figs, pomegranates, and fruit-trees 
of many kinds ; and vines everywhere, flinging their 
tendrils abroad in the very wantonness of luxuriance ! 
The sight is worth all the fatigue it may cost you : 
moreover, to know what the southern sun really is, you 
must not be afraid of his beams for a while. 

The road winds up Monte Celva, between marble 
cliffs, through the rocky glen of the Fersina, past a 
muddy lake, and then through vineyards and fields of 
maize and wheat to Pergine ; a pleasant village, about 
six miles from Trent. After a stroll to the church and 
the castle, I took -a return route through the lanes, 
along the side of Lake Caldonazzo — an expanse of water 
two miles in length and one in breadth, filling a deep 
hollow among the hills. Lake Levico, in which the 
Brenta rises, lies on the farther side of the opposite 
range. All around you have a cheerful prospect of 
rural scenery: signs of careful cultivation, and abun- 
dant fertility; and churches and houses dotting the 
slopes, betokening the presence of a population to enjoy 
the bounties so lavishly bestowed. From Calzeranica, 
at the foot of the lake, a rough track leads up the hill 
to Vigolo, under an almost continuous wood of stately 
chestnut and walnut-trees, bordered here and there by 



176 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

what can only be described as a very jungle of vines. 
Nature's work and man's work are here in striking 
contrast, for the cottages seem to be literally flung 
together, not built, and out of harmony with the grace- 
ful masses of vegetation. The ascent is trying work in 
such a devouring heat : it made me pant again. How 
gladly did I fling myself down under the leafy shade, 
and lie with my feet in a chattering rill, listening to the 
whispers of the leaves overhead ! My endurance would 
perhaps have failed, but for the trees. As it was, it 
appeared to me that I absorbed enough of sunshine to 
carry me blithely through many a gloomy November 
in London. 

At Vigolo, a very rustic village on the hill- top, the 
tavern and grocery are combined. I found every room 
thronged by card-players, eager and earnest over their 
Sunday recreation. While trying to coax my appetite 
with a couple of eggs in wine, I watched the various 
groups : each one a study. Whist was the game, and 
eight or ten rubbers were going on. The dealer gives 
ten cards at once to each player, and throws the rest 
of the pack aside. I was particularly struck by one grave- 
looking, sunburnt old fellow, with long black curly hair, 
in the party nearest me. He was astute enough for a car- 
dinal; and with his hawk-eye glance seemed to discover 
all that he wished of the game. For nearly an hour he 
had it all his own way. I saw no money staked ; nor was 
there any word of winnings, except in the form of an 
occasional decanter of wine. Excitement appeared to be 
all that the players cared for. And outside, other groups 



OK FOOT THEOUGH TYEOL. 177 

of villagers were quite as earnestly engaged in playing 
at ninepins, regardless of the hot sun, and with no little 
clamour, yet in high good-humour. It was their prac- 
tice to play every Sunday, they told me, except in 
winter or bad weather, and then they also sit in-doors 
and amuse themselves with the cards. I looked about 
the tavern and in some of the houses for a book or 
newspaper, but saw nothing to indicate that either the 
idleness or industry of reading was among the village 
recreations. 

A little beyond Vigolo there is a distant view of 
Trent, from the wild, shaggy brow of the hill. Far 
away rise the mountains on every side, to a height of 
six thousand or eight thousand feet ; and, feeling the 
sweltering temperature, you can hardly believe the 
white streaks on their summits to be snow. Farther 
than eye can reach they extend, until, within two or 
three leagues of Verona, they sink down into the plains 
of Italy; and the Adige rushes from between them to 
pursue a calmer course. I loitered on the brow, for 
it showed me my last prospect towards the south — the 
dreamland of dwellers under a northern sky. Then to 
the descent, rugged, stony, and fatiguing ; and at length 
I came out upon the Roveredo road, about a mile from 
the city. 

The dusty boulevard looked quite gay with the 
numbers of people walking leisurely to and fro under 
the trees; the ladies wearing bright-coloured scarfs, or 
rich lace mantles, and veils falling in ample folds. I 
saw but three bonnets, — and they were looked at as 

N 



178 ON FOOT THROUGH TYEOL. 

something very unusual by the talkative groups of dark- 
eyed damsels and matrons, who preferred their own 
natural adornment. Many of the shops were open, and 
every cafe had its throng of guests seated under the 
red-striped awning. 

To spare myself the tiresome, wall-fenced walk out 
of Trent on the morrow, I took a place in the Stell- 
ivagen for Salurn. The clerk of the Messaggeria puzzled 
over my name, and I had to pronounce it three times 
before he could venture to enter it ; and then, on his 
handing me the ticket, I found it transmuted into, 
il Sig. Heider. 

Again a crowded supper-room at the Corona ; again 
the minstrels ; and again a terrific thunderstorm in the 
night. 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 179 



CHAPTER IX. 

Parisian Enterprise — Departure from Trent — Salurn — A Friar's Payment 
— Etschland — Leave the High-road — The Hill-side — A Thunderstorm 
— The Kalterner See — Kaltern — The Rittmeister — Arrest of an Emis- 
sary — About English Troops — Austria and England — Georgey — Hun- 
gary and Lombardy — The Palmerstonian Target — The Ficar of VaJce- 
jield — The Doctor's English — Giving a Lesson — A Cup of Tea — A 
late and early Pupil— His Opinions — A Savour of Scandal — The 
Extatica, Maria von Mori — The Major's Jokes — Ride to Terlan — A 
Rabble Parliament — Politics again — Kossuth and Mazzini — Cost of 
the Army — A wide-awake Country — Meran — Scraps of History — 
Schloss Tyrol — Magnificent View — Riffian — A lost Track — Saltaus — 
Labourers at Supper — The Evening Prayer. 

Five the next morning was the hour of departure. 
I found a number of passengers taking their early cup 
of coffee, at a cafe opposite the Stellwagen office, and 
followed their example, sitting at little tables ranged 
along the pavement. Among the party were two 
Parisian cabinet-makers, who had made a week's tramp 
all round the neighbourhood to buy walnut-wood, and 
were now going home by way of the Lake of Garda 
and Turin. Every year, they said, increases the 
difficulty of getting choice wood ; and only by visiting 
the peasants in out-of-the-way places among the moun- 
n2 



180 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

tains, could they meet with such stems and branches as 
would pay for transport. 

We clattered out of the town with noise enough to 
wake all the sleepers. The vehicle was uncomfortably 
crowded by ladies in silk, peasants in serge, two 
moustachioed wine-merchants in fashionable coats, a 
farmer without a coat, a soldier, and a Capuchin friar : 
variety enough to keep a conversation going. Three 
hours passed : every mile brought us to higher ground; 
views opened over the Adige, and away into the 
mountains ; then a rocky defile, and a picturesque ruin 
springing from a pinnacle of rock, and we stop to 
breakfast at the Krone in Salurn. 

Here German is the prevailing language ; but Italian 
is creeping in, and the Italian race will, it is thought, 
gradually dispossess the Teutonic, for the valley of the 
Adige has an evil reputation for ague and fever, only to 
be resisted by immigrants from the south. The friar 
paid nothing for his breakfast but thanks; and I was 
told that he would pay his fare on arriving at Botzen 
in a similarly unsubstantial way. 

To avoid the high-road, and the bottom of the valley, 
I crossed the river, and took a by-way, leading through 
vineyards and spongy meadows, traversed by lanes of 
willows, all protected by a high and thick embankment, 
to the villages on the opposite hill-slopes; the eastern 
side of the ridge which separates the valley of Non 
from Etschland, as the Germans call the valley of the 
Adige. The day was sultry, and heavy clouds sailed 
slowly across the sky; but wherever the track rose 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 181 

above the fences and hedges I found a pleasant breeze 
blowing. Perfectly calm days are rare in Tyrol, owing, 
so meteorologists say, to the very mountainous character 
of the country. Unlike Switzerland, which has miles 
of comparative level, Tyrol is all hill and valley, and has 
scarcely any open levels, except in the Innthal. ' Hence 
the many currents of air that refresh the wayfarer, even 
in the hottest days. 

On through Kurtinig, Kartasch, Tramin, into a 
region becoming more and more hilly ; past the Kal- 
terner See, a small lake, overlooked by the Castle of 
Leuchtenburg, in ruins. I had just got to the foot of the 
steep hill, on the top of which Kaltern is built, when 
a long-threatened thunderstorm burst, and drove me 
under a hayrick for shelter. The rain fell in torrents, 
and soon gave the road the appearance of a turbid 
brook ; but gradually the dark clouds rolled away, and 
" before sunset," to quote the words of rare old Christo- 
pher, " heaven and earth, like lovers after a quarrel, lay 
embraced in each other's smile." 

Those who enter Kaltern on foot must arrive out of 
breath, so steep is the ascent. I was eating my supper 
at the Riesel, when a stranger, somewhat military in 
appearance, came in, and sat down to his repast. We 
talked across the table. He was a Rittmeister of the 
gendarmerie, on his annual tour of inspection of the 
posts within his district; and, relating what had taken 
place on the Stelvio, I asked him whether the two 
gendarmes had a right to command and question 
travellers as they did me. 



182 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

u Yes, they have the right. Any gendarme, on his 
own mere suspicion, may stop and question any one he 
meets ; and, if he be not satisfied with the answers, may 
compel him to retrace his steps to the nearest station, 
there to be further questioned by the officer in com- 
mand. You, I think, would have been let to go on 
again. The Stelvio is a pass that we have to watch 
more rigorously than any other. We have to be always 
looking out for treason and smugglers on that mountain ; 
and your being there quite alone, carrying your own 
knapsack, was a suspicious circumstance. They would 
not have let you off so easily had you spoken Italian. 
Why, within a week of your adventure, an emissary 
(of course of Mazzini's) with Foreign Office passport all 
in order, was arrested on that same spot. But remem- 
ber, if a gendarme goes beyond his duty he gets the 
severest punishment." 

Such is the sum of what the Rittmeister said, in a 
less connected form, while eating his carbonado. Of 
course we went on to talk about the war, and he was 
not at all dainty in his censures. " Braver troops than 
yours," he said, " especially under fire, no country ever 
had ; but what officers ! They don't know what to do 
with their men. If such troops had but officers worthy 
of them, what would they not do ! England will 
never have an army worthy of the name until every 
citizen is compelled to serve his turn, as throughout 
Germany, where a military life is popular." 

" How happens it, then," I asked, " that so many 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 183 

chop off a finger, or maim themselves in other ways, 
to escape the service ? And the two hundred thousand 
men you disbanded lately, were they reluctant to go 
back to their homes?" 

" He would go into that question another time. It 
was scarcely to be expected that Sebastopol would be 
taken without the aid of Austria ; and Austria was not 
so foolish as to think of stirring without the support of 
English money and French troops. English newspapers 
might taunt, but the government at Vienna knew what 
they were about. Moreover, judging from those same 
papers, the power and prestige of England were rapidly 
declining ; perishing from rottenness. England was the 
laughing-stock of Germany." 

" Laugh away," I replied ; " you cannot say severer 
things of us than we say of ourselves. And let me 
remind you that we are, perhaps, the only nation in the 
world who can lie down for dissection, and survive the 
operation." 

The Rittmeister thought that other countries could 
do the same. 

" Not that," I ventured to suggest, " in which a 
Batthyani was hanged ; and a government became a 
terror to itself, and a scandal to Europe." 

" Batthyani was rightly hanged ; but others deserved 
hanging more than he. We were all mistaken about 
Kossuth, in England. Hungary execrated him — would 
cast him out from her bosom were he ever to return. 
Since 1848, the Hungarians had discovered how terribly 



184 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

lie had deceived them. How was it such as he and 
Mazzini could be tolerated in England?" 

" One reason why, is that hanging a man is not the 
best way of rectifying or coercing his politics." And I 
asked a few questions concerning Georgey. 

" He is still at Klagenfurt, studying chemistry, and 
giving lectures." 

" Is he content ?" 

" Can a man ever be content who missed a position, as 
he did — whose- career came to such an unlucky end?" 

" And is Hungary content ?" 

" Yes, Hungary is now happy, loyal to the Emperor, 
and blames herself that she ever fought for a mistake. 
There are good schools all over the country, and 
scarcely a peasant that cannot read and write. I won- 
der," continued the Rittmeister, "that so much mis- 
conception concerning Austria should prevail in Eng- 
land, when so many Englishmen travel here every 
year. Are they unable to report truly, or do they 
misunderstand everything ? Is ours such a callous 
despotism? Have we not schools in number for the 
education of the people ? The people know that their 
pleasures and welfare are cared for by the State, and 
hence they are loyal." 

"AndLombardy?" 

" Well, things are not so bad there as is reported : it 
is only in the towns that discontent appears. The 
Lombard peasant does not care at all who rules him; 
allhe wants is to be let alone, and Austria interferes 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 185 

not with his tillage. But look at Tyrol ! Have you seen 
any discontent here? Why, when your minister 
Palmerston made himself obnoxious by his foreign 
policy, in 1848, the Tyrolese were so exasperated at 
the slights offered, as they thought, to Austria, that they 
had his Lordship's effigy everywhere, all through the 
land, for a shooting-target, and on his breast a label 
fastened, with the words, 

" SBenn &af 5er Seufel etnen ©o{m, 
<5o if* er ftdfkr Sor5 ^almerjlon." * 

;] Prom politics we slid into other topics. The Ritt- 
meister had once studied English when a youth, but 
had long forgotten the little he knew, and now spoke 
only his native German. " What was my lesson book?" 
he said, and rubbed his forehead ; " yes, I remember : 
it was the Ficar of Vakefield. Yes, that was the book ; 
I wish I could read it now." 

Presently he told me of a doctor, a self-taught lin- 
guist, who was in the habit of spending his evenings at 
the Riesel, and had come to be regarded as a pheno- 
menon, on account of his acquirements in English and 
French. Shortly afterwards, a tall, portly man entered, 
and was at once introduced to me as the Herrn Doctor. 
He ordered a Schopf o£ wine, and as he took his seat, 
the Rittmeister said, " Now, Doctor, here is a chance 
for you : here is an Englishman." 

* If the devil has a son, 

He surely is Lord Palmerston. 



186 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

I assured the doctor that it would give me much 
pleasure to speak English with him ; but he put on the 
bewildered look of one who does not understand a 
word of what he hears, and begged me to repeat. I 
did repeat, and slowly — but with no better result. 
The doctor tried and tried again to answer in English, 
and had at last to fall back upon his vernacular. 

" So ! Herrn Doctor !" cried the Rittmeister, u you 
are found out. You who so often show off here with 
reading your English. Where is your scholarship 
now ?" 

The facts, however, were, that the doctor having 
once become possessed of Thomson's Seasons printed 
with a German translation, had studied so diligently 
that he could actually read and understand it. He had 
read it through so often that the sense was now familiar 
to him, and he wondered at his difficulty in compre- 
hending the same language when spoken. I had a 
small volume of Cowper's Poems in my knapsack, and 
brought it out to make trial of his reading. Such a 
curious set of jerking sounds as he uttered, I never 
before listened to. The words came from his mouth 
as if they were pellets ; every th turned into z, every p 
into a by and the syllables unrecognizable. Of" schemes," 
he made shems, and of " dreams," drems, with a sharp, 
hissing sound of the final s. Seeing my attempt to 
repress a smile, he requested me to read the passage. I 
had not finished, when the Rittmeister broke out with 
a laugh — " So-o-o, Herrn Doctor! is that your Eng- 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 187 

lish ? Truly, you have not the least idea of the pronun- 
ciation. Why, I should do better with a month's 
practice at the Ficar of Vahefieldr 

The doctor looked disconcerted; but thought that 
he, too, might be able to speak if I would only stay a 
month. To read and understand was already some- 
thing. To encourage him to persevere, I made him a 
present of Cowper, which he accepted with many 
thanks, and promised to read from beginning to end. 

Much talk gave me a longing for a cup of tea; I 
had tasted none since Thuringen. The hostess thought 
she had some, and searched, and brought in what 
looked like an ancient curl-paper, tightly twisted 
up. It contained a small quantity of green dust, 
dry and scentless, which I rejected, and produced a 
little store of black tea from my knapsack, provided 
in anticipation of such an emergency. Then, with 
boiling water and a coffee-jug, I satisfied my longing, 
as much to my comfort as to the landlady's surprise. 
She had never seen the like before: such a dark- 
coloured fluid must be coffee. The Rittmeister remarked 
that many persons in the towns of German Tyrol had 
begun to drink tea instead of wine on winter evenings. 
He did, for one, and thought it a good practice. Then, 
with his "good night," he offered me a seat in his 
carriage as far as Meran, his next day's journey. I did 
not refuse it. The doctor was so eager for further talk 
about pronunciation, that he kept me sitting till weari- 
ness got the better of my didactic civilities. 

There sat the doctor, with Cowper open before him, 



188 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

when I came down the next morning, as if he had not 
stirred the whole night. " Would I give him a lesson ?" 
Who could deny such a craving for knowledge? So I 
gave him nearly two hours of reading and spelling, and 
ate my breakfast when he chose to talk. One thing 
greatly puzzled him : how was it that in English, ea, ei, 
ze, all had the sound of ee? What ! could it be possible 
there was no reason? — then the English was a strange 
language. " However," he pursued, " I find English 
to be a more natural language than ours : it expresses 
itself in the way that children talk. For instance, you 
say, c I have eaten my dinner :' we say, c I have my 
dinner eaten.' Truly, in that respect, English is better 
than German." 

The two hours over, it was my turn to get a lesson, 
and I proposed a walk. We strolled away to a higher 
slope of the hill, from whence the whole region was 
visible, and the doctor pointed out all that was remark- 
able. In that house lived Herrn ; in the other, 

Iierrn ; and he had something to say about every- 
body, and more than was edifying. As medical adviser, 
he knew many a private history that would not bear 
the light. Great rivalry prevailed among the principal 
families, and they triumphed who could appear most 
sumptuously dressed in church. And here and there 
was something worse to tell — scandalous immoralities 
— which, as I was going away and knew none of the 
names, he did not mind informing me of; and he could 
say something about the priests, too, if he liked, that 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 189 

would disgrace their religious character. He had prac- 
tised in Kaltern so many years, that the bad as well as 
the good side of its inhabitants had become familiar to 
him. I pretend not to vouch for the doctor's state- 
ments : if but half be true, they prove that skeletons, 
unhappily, haunt houses in mountain villages as well as 
in great cities. 

Some years ago Kaltern enjoyed an undue share of 
notoriety, through the appearance of an Extatica. 
Fr'aulein Maria von Mori, born in 1812, began to suffer 
great torments about her twentieth year, from horrid 
spectral forms, which never left her day or night. In 
1833 she fell into an ecstasy, which lasted for thirty- 
six hours, and removed her agonies. The trance was 
talked of as a miracle, and with such effect, that, within 
ten weeks, more than forty thousand persons went on 
pilgrimage from all parts of Tyrol to see her. Three 
thousand passed through her chamber in one day. 
Whole parishes came, with crucifix and banner, and 
headed by their, priest. In the following year, the 
stigmata appeared, and the damsel was lodged in a 
nunnery : now one of the curiosities of the place. Her 
Friday ecstasy differed from that of Christmas-day, and 
this again from that of other holy days, in proportion 
to their joy fulness. The Archbishop of Trent said, 
" Her sickness is no wonder ; but her piety is no 
sickness :" and Kaltern grew proud of its saintly inha- 
bitant. Many imitators arose in the neighbourhood ; 
but, as is said, they all gave up falling into ecstasies after 



190 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

one visit from a physician : and the excitement wore 
away about the Extatica herself, and Kaltern ceased to 
be the resort of curious pilgrims. 

We were to dine at eleven, and start at noon. Punctual 
to the hour, the Rittmeister came in from the guard-house, 
where he had been since an early hour, accompanied 
by an officer, whom he introduced as the major. We 
dined altogether in right good-humour ; during which, 
the major being informed of the arrangement made with 
me, it was settled that I should ride half-way in his 
carriage, as the two soldiers had many things to talk 
about. The vehicles were brought round : I took my seat, 
and was leaning forward on the bar of the apron, when 
the major, with a jerk of his thumb towards me, said, 
"Looks he not like an Englishman?" And while the 
two chuckled in a way that proved contagious among 
the bystanders, I replied, 

" Yes, one of the race who are not afraid to carry 
their thought in the eye, and their heart in the coun- 
tenance." 

Then, while cigars were being lighted, the Rittmeister, 
who was striking fire from the back of his knife, came 
in for his turn: " Only look at him !" cried the major; 
" a man a hundred years behind," as he produced his 
own little box of matches. 

We were hardly clear of the rough, hilly street, when 
the Hungarian driver, turning round towards me, asked, 
" Can you Italian ?" I answered by a shake of the 
head ; and " Can you German ?" and his reply being 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 191 

also in the negative, we had none but laconic phrases 
to divert our attention from the landscape. 

Another heavy thunderstorm in the night had laid 
the dust, but the same sultry heat prevailed ; and the 
horses, notwithstanding their nets, were half maddened 
by the myriad swarms of flies. We were approaching 
a region so broken up by hills, and so varied in outline, 
while ruins — Hoch Eppan, Sigmundskrone, Maultasch 
— crown the precipitous heights, that the views delight 
your eye with many forms of the romantic and pictu- 
resque. The slopes are hung with vines, and at a 
distance the low grounds cheat you with the idea of 
richest verdure ; but they are in many places overspread 
by swamps and large beds of reeds, in which fevers 
lurk, too often fatal to all within their influence. 

We stopped at Terlan to relieve the horses for a while 
from their tormentors. The huge, dimly-lit stable must 
have seemed to them for the time an equine paradise. 
The spire of the church here has lost its perpendicular, 
and leans towards the road : having once, so says the 
legend, saluted a maiden, whose purity was such that 
all things did homage to her as she passed ; and leaning 
will it remain, until another equally spotless shall travel 
the same road. 

The officers were neither fussy nor ostentatious. The 
Rittmeister ordered a bottle of the white wine for which 
Terlan is celebrated; and while we drank, sitting in the 
common room, he, having the major for an ally, returned 
to our talk of the evening before. The two were fully 



102 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

of opinion that Sebastopol would never be taken, at 
least not while there was a parliament in England 
interfering with military affairs, that they knew nothing 
about. "And a rabble (Gesindel) parliament, too," 
added the major. 

" Say delegates instead of rabble, and you will be 
nearer the mark," was my answer ; " but we do great 
things with that rabble, as you call it, nevertheless. 
And whether or no, we mean to have Sebastopol." 

"Hear him! hear him!" cried the major: "as if 
England had not enough to do to take care of herself. 
Even your own newspapers predict her downfall." 

" That is an old story with us. We can call ourselves 
ill-names; expose our weak points; and come out the 
stronger from our fits of self-deception. We can laugh 
at our Queen, at the prince, the ministers, at every- 
body, without exciting a revolution. If you want to 
know how, you must go and live in England." 

" Yes ; and you harbour such fellows as Mazzini and 
Kossuth." 

" Of course we do. If people were only free to 
laugh in some other countries, ministers of the interior 
would not require so many spies and gendarmes. Is it 
not better to laugh at a minister, to pin him with a 
question in the House, than to plot against him in 
secret, and give him the trouble of hanging the most 
enlightened among those who differ from him in 
opinion?" 

" That sounds well ; but " 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYEOL. 193 

" In England it works well, as you will see if ever 
you go there." 

Our halt came to an end. The major, holding out 
his hand to me as he drove off down a by-road, said 
laughingly, " Good-bye ! You are a wonderful people " 
{ein wunderbares VolK). I joined the Rittmeister, who 
pointed out the remarkable objects in the view that 
became more beautiful as we advanced. There rose 
the ruins of Zenoberg, there Fragsberg towering far 
aloft, there Katzenstein, and lastly Schloss Tyrol — the 
castle from which the whole country has derived its 
name. We touched the bend where the Etsch changes 
its course suddenly from west to south, and caught 
glimpses down the valley towards Botzen, and upwards 
along the Vintschgau, and away to the great snow 
region of the Ortler. 

Happening to talk of soldiers on the way, I asked if 
it was true, as I had heard at Trent, that each man of 
the Austrian army cost the state a florin a day. In- 
cluding all the expenses of the military establishments, 
the Rittmeister thought the amount not over-stated. 
" And so you can understand," he said, " that while 
we are paying four hundred and fifty thousand florins 
a day in peace, we are desirous to avoid war." 

He would not admit that the Tyrolese are honester 
than other folk, though I insisted with might and main 
on the proofs of honesty that had come within my ex- 
perience. " If they who don't plunder the traveller are 
not honest, who are?" "Yes," rejoined the Rittmeister, 
" it seems so to you ; but the people here, besides not 





1 94 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

being honest, are slow, stupid, and bigoted — with what 
effect can only be known by living among them. If 
you had time to go into Austria Proper, you would find 
a remarkable difference — a wide-awake country" (ein 
sehr gewecktes Land). 

At five in the afternoon we came to Meran, a small 
town, beautifully situate. It was the capital of Tyrol, 
until Duke Friedrich — Empty-pocket — transferred the 
residence to its young rival Innsbruck, and retains 
some features of its mediaeval dignity. I sauntered 
through the arcades that give a picturesque appearance 
to the main street, where women sit with stalls of fruit 
during the week, and the peasantry of the neighbour- 
hood assemble to gossip between the services on Sunday. 
Then to the church, which boasts the highest tower, 
and, with its seven bells, the best and most musical 
ringing in all Tyrol : in other respects, nothing very 
remarkable. In the Spital church, you may read on 
the wall a chronicle of one of the terrible floods of the 
Passeyr, a wild stream which pouring down from the 
valley in the rear, has overwhelmed the town, and 
threatened to sweep it away eight times within the last 
four centuries. A massive embankment of masonry 
has since been built as a barrier to the torrent; and die 
Mauer, as it is called, is the favourite promenade of the 
inhabitants. Here they walk up and down under the 
poplars, or recline on the seats, enjoying the beautiful 
views of Obermais, the wooded hills, and up and down 
the valleys. 

From the bridge over the Passeyr, looking round on 



ON FOOT THEOUGH TYROL. 195 

the landscape, you may see nearly all the castles of the 
neighbourhood : on every side a scene of beauty. No 
wonder that Tyrolese poets sing of Meran as a "place 
of delights ;" and the Meraners vaunt their mineral 
springs as certain to cure, while such prospects assist the 
effect of the water. 

Returning down the Laubengasse, you will not fail 
to notice an ancient building, the Kelleramt, in the 
chapel of which are to be seen frescoes representing the 
marriage of Margaret Maultasch, the heiress of Tyrol, 
with the Margrave Ludwig of Brandenburg. Judging 
from the personages present — an emperor, dukes, counts, 
bishops, and knights in number — it must have been a 
great event. It took place in 1342. The bride, from 
her cognomen of Maultasch, is commonly described as 
Pocket-mouthed Meg, and yet she is said to have been 
beautiful. The truth probably is, that the by-name 
was not derived from any personal defect, but from her 
Castle of Maultasch, near Terlan. In any case, Austria 
owes its possession of Tyrol to her, for she afterwards 
married an Austrian prince. And then if we remember 
that Pope John XXIII. was entertained here, when on 
his way to the Council of Constance in 1414, by Duke 
Friedrich, who, as we have seen, was requited by ban 
and outlawry, we shall have filled up our brief sojourn 
in Meran. 

I went back to the hotel for my knapsack, and to say 
farewell to the Rittmeister. At parting, he gave me 
his card, with intimation that if shown to any gendarmes 
who mighj; yet suspect me of being a subject for escort, 

02 



196 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

it would at once relieve me from their zealous attentions. 
And he crowned his courtesies by a pressing invitation 
to visit him should I ever re-visit Tyrol. 

I turned my face towards Schloss Tyrol, that castle 
which, once a Roman tower, became eventually the 
seat of nobles, and is now a national heirloom. In 
1808, when the Bavarians were in possession, they sold 
it at Munich to the highest bidder, and the much-prized 
ruin would have been pulled down had not a neigh- 
bouring peasant taken it and held possession till the 
Austrian rule was restored. Some of the apartments 
were then made habitable, and one of the Hofer family 
was appointed keeper. 

The view from the summit of the hill on which the 
castle stands is magnificent, the height and position 
being such as to command the finest parts of the surround- 
ing valleys and their endless ranges of hills, and the 
river bending suddenly to the south, as if impatient to 
reach the plains. It is a view that repays all your time 
and labour, and makes you reluctant to turn away. 

You may descend by a path leading into the Pas- 
seyrthal, and strike the mule track at the village of 
Riffian. The route becomes so wild and stony that 
you would scarcely believe a town to be within so short 
a distance. Presently it ended in the stream, which 
rushing furiously, seemed inclined to scoop out a new 
bed, and I had to seek a by-path across plashy meadows, 
where the second crop of grass was already high, and a 
mower told me there would be a third in September. 
Some two miles upwards, the valley was filled with the 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 197 

dense rolling clouds of a thunderstorm — a grand spec- 
tacle — slowly advancing, shrouding the landscape in 
gloom, while the forked lightnings flashed, and sullen 
thunder growled. Grand as was the sight, I was not 
sorry to see the tumultuous masses suddenly roll off to 
the east through a break in the hills. 

Then coming to a rise, we have the track again ; 
traversing slopes of vines which gradually diminish in 
extent as we approach the firs, while the valley narrows 
and wears a wilder aspect. In places the Passeyr has 
covered the whole breadth with stones and sand, and 
its angry roar sounds almost awful as evening creeps 
on. Then, on crossing the bridge, I found the path 
again washed away for more than a mile, and had to 
retrace my steps, and scramble through the forest above 
the right bank. It was* dusk when 1 came to Saltaus, 
a large, lonely building, which combines farm-house 
and tavern, but with most features of the rustic. The 
accommodations, though homely, are very much better 
than might be inferred from the outward aspect* The 
hostess welcomed me with words as cheerful as her own 
good looks, and soon placed a repast before me which, 
for cookery and cleanliness, was not excelled in any 
part of my wanderings. 

In one corner of the large room a numerous party of 
the farm-labourers, male and female, sat round a table 
eating their supper, all, as usual, feeding from one dish. 
A thin candle in the centre threw its light upon the 
heads all bending towards the dish, and a little way into 
the surrounding gloom ; and as one and another made a 



198 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

plunge with his fork and brought it back to his mouth, 
and the jaws moved briskly with snatches of conversa- 
tion and a half-choked laugh between, a picture was 
produced which I should have liked to bring away 
in a more tangible form than mental daguerreotype. 
The effects of light and shade — here a sunburnt visage 
in strong relief, there a lassie's face in deep obscure, a 
gleam of light twinkling now and then from her eyes — 
would have delighted an artist. Supper over, they 
all rose suddenly, and approaching the crucifix in my 
corner, recited a brief prayer, made the sign of the 
cross, and betook themselves forthwith to bed. While 
they prayed, I laid down my knife and fork and put on 
a reverent look, as much out of respect for their feel- 
ings as for the name of Englishman. 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 199 



CHAPTER X. 

The Passeyr — Classic Ground — A Talk with Reapers — Tyrolese and 
English Labourers— St. Martin — Hofer's Birthplace — A Dinner on the 
Balcony — Am Sand — Something about Hofer — He becomes Leader of 
the Passeyrers — His Dress — Triumphal Entry into Innsbruck — The 
Ober commandant's Speech — His Policy — His Economy — His simple 
Eaith — National Incredulity — Dangers and Embarrassments — The last 
Proclamation — The Search for Hofer — The traitor Priest and Peasant 
— The Patriot's Hiding-place — An unwelcome Visitor — A Surprise — 
Made Prisoner — French Rejoicings— An Escort to Mantua — Sentence 
of Death — The Execution — An Imperial Murder — A Corpse enno- 
bled — Final Entry into Innsbruck — Entombed among the Worthiest. 

Saltaus, as I saw on my early start the next 
morning, has the appearance of having seen better days. 
The house, solidly built of stone, was once the country- 
seat of a nobleman, which accounts for the belt of 
walnut-trees, the large garden where formal beds are 
still traceable, and clustering roses rise from among the 
vegetables, and a fountain drizzles in the centre. As 
usual, a little chapel adjoins the outbuildings ; for in 
Tyrol the community must be small indeed which has 
not its place of worship. 

The valley makes a bend here : we leave the vines 
for slopes where the fir forests straggle down to the 
water's edge, and the furious stream wastes more than 



200 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

its share of the diminishing fields and pastures with 
drifts of sand and boulders. Falling more than fifteen 
hundred feet between St. Leonhard and Meran — about 
twelve miles — the Passeyr roars along with a mighty 
power for mischief. Again, on crossing to the left 
bank, did I find the road washed away, and had to try 
back to a path through the forest, which, though 
somewhat longer, is pleasanter than the ugly margin of 
the river. Here and there you come to bowery hollows, 
to little mossy nooks, delightfully cool, and narrow 
rocky passages, only passable by one on foot. 

The Passeyrthal is classic ground. Every step brought 
me nearer to the birthplace of Hofer — the Tell of Tyrol : 
a hero about whom there is nothing mythical, as with 
his forerunner of Switzerland. We know what manner 
of man he was, what he said, and what he did, prompted 
by a devout faith, simple-mindedness, arid an unselfish 
love of country. The rugged paths of the valley are trod- 
den by many a pilgrim's foot, which but for Hofer's name 
and memory would have turned aside into fairer regions. 

While crossing a rye-field near St. Martin, I met a 
girl carrying a large pail of milk, and a basket of big, 
coarse rye-cakes, at sight of whom some twenty or 
thirty reapers ran up to a patch of shade under the 
hedge, and seated themselves for breakfast. Bread, 
bacon, and beer could not have been more relished by 
English labourers than this pastoral diet was by them. 
They all, lads and lasses, appeared strong and hearty, 
and told me they were well content. Some of them 
could not remember when they had eaten meat; a few 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 201 

of the youngest had never tasted it; and none thought 
the deficiency a grievance : while they could get good 
cakes and milk, and buckwheat-soup and salad with oil 
for dinner and supper, and now and then cheese in the 
winter, little mattered it to them who ate the flesh. 
All the men wore the long-bibbed aprons, which seem 
to be part of the rural costume throughout Tyrol, and 
some five or six among them had each a watch — old- 
fashioned things, that looked like the Nuremberg work- 
manship of two hundred years ago. The eagerness 
with which they questioned me as to the rate of wages 
in England, the prices of provisions, and ways of living, 
made me suspect the genuineness of their content- 
ment ; but shrewdly enough they calculated and com- 
pared, and came to the conclusion that if a labourer 
earned more in England, he could not save more than 
one in Tyrol. They were amazed to hear that English 
peasantry owned no land, and contrived to bring up 
a family on nine shillings a week. " Less than six 
gulden," said one; "so is, yes, a little bit of land much 
better." 

Then they wished to know if England was a country 
where a man could rise? to which the answer was 
easy. How was it, then, if so many of the lowest class 
had risen to wealth and distinction, that any were 
beggars? to which the answer was not so easy : how- 
ever, I succeeded in making them understand that even 
in England nine-tenths of us are born to be what are 
called " people." Then, how did folk dress in England? 
and great was their surprise to hear that hundreds of 



202 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

the working-class prefer the left-off clothes of those 
who don't work, to attire which, being new, would be 
thoroughly respectable. 

Among the same number of English rustics there 
would have been talking enough, and endeavours after 
fun ; but your Tyrolese peasant is a sedate, not to say 
sluggish, personage ; not easily roused, but a very tiger 
when his blood is up — as if having an interest in the 
soil made him grave and thoughtful, and jealous of his 
rights. How often, while sauntering through English 
lanes, have I heard a blithe voice go lilting along, happy 
apparently as a bird's ; but not once did I hear a snatch 
of song among the mountains, nor any singing except 
at Trent. If the Tyrolese be, as is said, a musical 
people, there is very little demonstration of the sweet 
science to the wayfarer. Perhaps it comes out during 
the idleness of the winter months. They are not lively 
in other respects : I overtook all who were on the 
road, though when first seen they might be half a mile 
ahead. 

A short distance beyond St. Martin, a pretty village 
that dazzled me with whitewash, I came to a wooden 
house on the right, which bears on its front a large 
emblazoned coat-of-arms, with the sign of the Crown 
(Krone). A projecting gallery forms at once a portico 
and outlet to each floor, from whence you may look 
down on the shed which, decorated by targets and 
overshadowed by trees, stands between the house and 
the river. You hear the rustling of leaves, the plash of 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 203 

a fountain, and the swift roar of the stream. That 
house was the birthplace of Hofer. 

I went in, looked about, saw no one ; walked from 
room to room, up-stairs and down, scrupulous cleanliness 
everywhere apparent, but no inmates. I called — no 
answer. I shouted — no answer. I raised a cry of 
"Fire!" whereupon a woman came running in from 
the garden, with an apology, and offers of service. The 
Passeyr, if mischievous, yields excellent trout ; the bouilh 
was ready ; the salad was grown, and could be washed 
in an instant at the fountain ; so I dined right royally 
on the upper gallery, the sunshiny -landscape before my 
eyes, and.in my ears the music of the breeze among the 
branches. 

In coming up from Meran you will have crossed 
more than one level sandy patch, deposited by the river; 
and on a similar but ancient level — am Sand, in the 
vernacular — stands the house where we are now tarrying. 
Hence Hofer's forefathers, who lived here from time 
out of mind, were called one after the other Sandwirth 
— innkeeper on the sand — a name still in use by the 
country-folk, who, meeting you on the way, will ask 
you if you are going to call on the Sandwirth. The 
family came from a good old rustic stock, and were 
noted and esteemed for their rustic virtues. Here the 
Hofer was born on the 22nd of November, 1767. His 
schooling, which taught him simply to read, write, 
reckon, and spell, always incorrectly, was yet such 
as to give him a superiority in education over his 



204 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

neighbours. Besides his native German, he spoke the 
Italian dialect common around Trent. And in the 
athletic sports and exercises, and the rifle-practice, so 
praiseworthily followed in Tyrol, he proved himself 
equal to the foremost ; learning much that was one day 
to be manfully employed against the common enemy. 
As he grew up to manhood, he joined trading in wine 
and horses to his vocation of Wirih ; and was held in 
universal esteem for integrity of character, and unflinch- 
ing resolution when an ancient right was to be defended, 
or an encroachment opposed. He loved quiet and the 
old ways, yet had a touch of humour withal that made 
him enjoy fun and keenly relish a jest. His religion 
was as stanch as his bravery ; and he could be easily 
moved to tears by any remark that stirred his attach- 
ment to fatherland, or Kaiser Franzl. In person, he 
was of a strong and manly, somewhat herculean, form, 
with knees and shoulders slightly bent from much 
walking on laborious mountain-paths. His gait w r as 
slow ; and those w r ho heard his soft, half-musical voice, 
and saw his dark eyes beaming with gentleness, shaded 
by thick brown hair, and a long black beard, would 
have thought his features more expressive of patient 
resignation than of unusual heroism. 

Such was Andreas Hofer in his forty-second year, 
when the insurrection of 1809 broke out. He had 
taken part in the preliminaries already mentioned, which 
were so secretly conducted that even some of the Aus- 
trian chiefs knew not of the fatal hour about to strike on 
the morning of April 9th. He had already been singled 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 205 

out as leader of the Passeyrers, who idolized him, and 
whose enthusiasm was shared by the peasantry of the 
other valleys. Was he not one of themselves, the same 
in faith, aspiration, and prejudice? He retained the 
old familiar costume — conical black hat with looped 
flaps and feather, the green coat, the red waistcoat, on 
which a crucifix hung between the green braces, the 
black breeches — all associated with their dearest recol- 
lections : hence his marvellous influence. "Whatever 
"our AnderV commanded was implicitly obeyed. No 
messenger betrayed his confidence. If a post was to be 
defended by his order, those on whom the duty fell 
died rather than forsake it. He thought himself a 
Heaven-sent warrior, and the people believed devoutly 
in his inspiration, while the French called him the 
" insignifiant idole des Tyroliens." And so it came to 
pass that the land was rescued. What clergy, nobles, 
and government had failed to accomplish, was achieved 
by the peasantry, who having won back their land 
three times in the course of a few months, thought 
their duty fulfilled, and trusted the rest to the govern- 
ment. Yain trust ! Diplomacy with its wily artifices 
was put forward instead of valour ; and the hardy 
mountaineers had no sooner returned to their fields and 
cottages, than the foe returned, and laid the hateful 
foreign yoke once more upon their shoulders. Well 
might Pitt say, some fifteen years earlier, that Austria 
was always in arrear by a year, an idea, and an army. 

After the second expulsion of the foe, in that memo- 
rable year, the Sandwirth was appointed chief leader — 



206 OX FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

Obercommandant of Tyrol. But he changed nothing 
of his habits, or simple ways of living. He thought no 
more highly of himself because of the wild joy of the 
peasantry at his supreme distinction. When after the 
fierce contests along the Brenner route, and the glorious 
victory at Berg Isel, he made his triumphal entry into 
Innsbruck on August 15th, St. Napoleon's day, and 
heard the overwhelming acclamations that hailed his 
appearance from the church to which he had first 
directed his steps, he cried, " Hist ! hist ! Now prayer, 
not shouting. Not I, and not us — One above." Later 
in the day, the overjoyed thousands clamouring to see 
him, he stepped out on a balcony of the palace, and 
addressing them in homely style, said, "Now, God 
salute you all, my beloved Sbrucker (Innsbruckers) ! 
Because you would have me, whether or no, Obercom- 
mandant, so am I bound to you. But there are some 
here who are no Sbrucker. All that will be my weapon- 
brothers, they must fight for God, emperor, and father- 
land, like brave and honest Tyrolers. They who won't 
do that shall rather go directly home. My weapon- 
brothers shall not forsake me ; I will not forsake you, 
so true as I am called Andreas Hofer. Now I have 
spoke to you — you have spoke to me ; so God preserve 
you all." 

In vain simple faith and rustic eloquence! Kaiser 
Franzl found it easier to send a gold chain and medal 
to the Obercommandant^ to be worn with the crucifix 
on his red waistcoat, than to sustain him as a bulwark of 
the empire. And Hofer himself was but human, after 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 207 

all. He had no genius for tactics ; none of the quick 
insight which sees the one advantage to be striven for 
amid the throng of difficulties ; no ability or inclination 
to outwit an antagonist. While at Innsbruck to confer 
with the other leaders, before the insurrection broke 
out, and knowing that his presence was to be kept 
secret, he was found one night at the theatre, where his 
marked appearance drew all eyes, and could only be 
enticed away by an artifice. He liked not to have two 
or three things together on hand : one at a time, to be 
settled in his own straightforward way, was enough for 
him. It vexed him to be kept up at night, or to be 
disturbed while at meals. He was once nearly surprised 
by a Saxon troop at Sterzing, from having sat too long at 
table. Not that he fared sumptuously: he contented 
himself always with his usual homely diet ; and during 
his six weeks of power cost the country but fifty florins 
in personal expenses. He could beat the enemy, and 
very effectually too, in regular hours, such ae he had 
been accustomed to in his daily business, not other- 
wise. 

Indecision was another weak point of his character ; 
and the factious and the crafty took advantage of it to 
make him the instrument of their own designs, while, 
on the other hand, it not unfrequently brought ruin to 
the best-laid schemes of his friends. Among the many 
proclamations he issued during his brief residence in the 
palace at Innsbruck, one enjoined a better observance 
of the Sabbath — dancing-floors and taverns not to be 
frequented on that day ; another forbade music, except 



208 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

in moderation; a third required women not to wear 
their dresses too low, or of too thin materials, or to 
appear with bare arms, lest the valiant mountaineers 
should be led astray by their allurements. All com- 
mencing with " Beloved country-folk," and phrased in 
earnest and affectionate terms, appealing always for the 
sake of God, emperor, and fatherland : from that point 
he never wavered. When he accepted the gold chain 
on FranzVs birthday, October 4th, kneeling in the 
Hofhirch) during a solemn service, tears of joy rolled 
down his cheeks. 

The news of the peace of Schonbrunn (Oct. 15) was 
received throughout Tyrol with incredulity. Orders to 
lay down arms were everywhere laughed to scorn : the 
official announcements in the newspapers were treated 
as mere lying tricks of the enemy. Hofer was no ex- 
ception. He had left Innsbruck for Schonberg, and 
would not relax his watchfulness against the Bavarians, 
who, according to the treaty, were again approaching, 
until he could see the order written by the Archduke 
John's own hand. Then he issued a proclamation to 
his "Brothers," as he calls them, declaring that, for- 
saken by Austria, they could no longer make head 
against Napoleon's invincible might without lasting 
misery: that the French were marching up one side of 
the Brenner, the Bavarians up the other, so that the 
sooner all resistance ceased the sooner would the foe 
retire from the land. 

Such a proclamation must have been bitterness to 
him ; and more than once after sending it forth, he 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 209 

issued counter-proclamations, urging a renewal of hos- 
tilities. English gold, some time delayed, had found 
its way to the mountains ; and with such support, what 
might not be dared ? Douay, a rascal priest, thrust 
himself now into Hofer's presence, and tempted him to 
resist. To mistrust a son of the Church was not in the 
SandwirtKs nature, and he lent too ready an ear to one 
who was all the time in the pay of the French general, 
Baraguay d'Hilliers. Friendly warnings availed little : 
his one answer was, " he trusted in the Mother of God, 
in his body-guard, and a certain nook in Passeyr." 

On the 12th of November the whole line of the 
Brenner was in possession of the foreign troops, though 
not without fierce skirmishes and great loss of life : so 
unwilling were the peasantry to believe that the results 
of their successive triumphs were to be thrown away. 
On the 15th, Hofer sent out another proclamation : 
" all Passeyr was up." He had returned home ; and 
being looked on as the chief fomenter of discord, the 
French general sent a message to him, offering terms. 
He asked three days to consider his answer, and be- 
fore the time expired mysteriously disappeared. 

The French began a search, but not a trace of the 
fugitive could be discovered : not a soul in Passeyr 
appeared to know aught of his hiding-place. The 
rustic " I woass nit" — I don't know — was all the reply 
the scouts could get. The season, too, was against 
them : misdirected by the peasants, they went astray in 
the snows, and wandered into the way of two avalanches, 
so that at last the search became hateful to them as it 

P 



210 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

was wearisome, and they withdrew in the belief that 
the Sandwirth had escaped to Vienna. 

Douay, the priest, was acquainted with one Franz 
Joseph Raffel, of the village of Schanna, near Meran, — a 
cowherd in summer, in winter a brandy-smuggler^ an 
idle fellow at all times. One day, in January, 1810, 
Douay mentioned at the French head-quarters that he 
knew some one who knew Hofer's hiding-place. RafYel 
was laid hold of, and, under the influence of money and 
threats, though not without some glimmerings of com- 
punction, was made to serve as guide to the light in- 
fantry column of fifteen hundred men, seventy Jagers 
on horseback, and thirty Italian gendarmes, who in 
the night of January 26th set out to capture the fugi- 
tive Obey 'commandant. 

Hofer, with his wife and son, and a friend, 'had be- 
taken himself at the time of his disappearance to a 
lonely dwelling on the Kellerlahn, then to Brandach, 
and last to a solitary cowherd's hut, high up in the 
region of snows, where he believed himself in security. 
In this miserable retreat, which for all household gear 
contained but a cattle-trough and a quantity of hay and 
straw, he was supplied with food by trusty adherents, 
who entreated him to escape while there was yet time. 
But the hardy peasant shook his head : he was troubled 
by unhappy thoughts over the losses and mistaken 
struggles of the last few weeks, of which he regarded 
himself as the cause. He felt a presentiment that his 
work and his own career were about to close, and to 
end worthily was the idea that now possessed him. 



ON" FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 211 

Then he changed his mind, and wrote a letter to the 
emperor Franzl, begging for favourable consideration, 
and sent it by a faithful hand to Vienna. His mes- 
senger made the journey safely, was supplied with 
money and everything needful for the flight, and had 
reached Lienz on his way back, when he heard of the 
capture. Hofer had delayed too long. 

On the 23rd of January the Sandwirtlis wife spied a 
stranger lurking in the neighbourhood of the hut, and 
alarmed her husband. A bullet from the loaded rifle 
which stood in one corner would have checked the 
intruder's curiosit}'' ; but the mood for strife had passed. 
The stranger was Raffel. He approached the hut, and 
on being questioned pretended to be in search of a 
stray calf. Hofer, terrified at the unwelcome visit, 
gave him two crowns, and made him swear never to 
reveal his hiding-place. 

It was bright starlight, at five in the morning of the 
27th, when the friend who had brought provisions, and 
lay sleeping with Hofer' s son in the hayloft, was woke 
by the tramp of many feet on the crisp snow. Crying, 
"The French are coming!" the two leaped from the 
upper window, hoping to escape in the drifts, but were 
at once seized and bound. Hofer, waked by his wife, 
stepped out, saw at once what had happened, and with 
firm voice asked, "Speaks any one German?" The 
commander, Captain Renouard, came forward with one 
of the gendarmes, who replied, "Are you Andreas 
Hofer?" 

" I am he !" answered the Sandwirth, loud enough to 
p2 



212 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

be heard by all. They might do what they would 
with him ; but for his wife, and son, and friend, who 
were really innocent, he besought favour; and turning 
to them he said, "Pray, and be steadfast; suffer with 
patience, so will some of your sins be atoned for." 

He was chained hand and foot, his companions were 
bound, and, surrounded by troops, they descended the 
mountain. In the villages the French broke out into 
acclamations, and struck up their liveliest music, for 
the " terrible Barbone, the general Sanvird" as they 
called him, was a prisoner. The peasantry along the 
route, amazed at the capture of their hero, fell into 
grief and despair. The rejoicings multiplied at Meran, 
and all along the road to Botzen. Here the French 
general, indignant at the treatment Hofer had received, 
ordered him to be released from his chains, and sent a 
party to escort his wife and son back to the old house 
" am Sand" with instructions to restore whatever had 
been plundered. Heart-breaking was the separation; 
but Hofer maintained his tranquillity. Cold, anxiety, 
and ill fare, during his two months' sojourn among the 
snows, had told on him : his eye had grown dim, and 
his hair gray, yet he abated not one jot of faith or 
hope. 

He was escorted next to Mantua, and tried by court- 
martial. Two of the members were for unconditional 
release, others for imprisonment, a minority for death. 
But a missive was received from Milan, ordering exe- 
cution within twenty-four hours, so that Austria's 
intercession might come too late. From the time of 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 213 

his arrival in Botzen, the French had treated Hofer with 
great respect, as a personage of distinction, and one of 
the high dignitaries of the Church was appointed his 
confessor. Cairn, as from the first, he awaited his 
fate ; manifesting in himself the steadfastness he had 
enjoined on others. His last letter, written to his wife 
(it is preserved in the Ferdinandeum at Innsbruck), 
advises her of the religious duties to be fulfilled after 
his death, and ends, " And so farewell all in the world,— 
till we meet together again in heaven above, and there 
praise God without end. Let all Passeyrers and ac- 
quaintances think of me in their holy prayers : and let 
my wife not grieve too much. I will pray near God 
for you all." 

"Farewell, thou scornful world! Death comes so 
softly towards me, that my eye moistens not." 

At eleven in the morning of February 20th, a com- 
pany of grenadiers marched along the bastion with 
Hofer in their midst. All the Tyrolese prisoners who 
could get near threw themselves on the ground, and 
besought his blessing. He, in turn, begged forgiveness 
from them and others. Arrived at the place of execu- 
tion, a white cloth was offered to blindfold his eyes, 
and he was bidden to kneel. He threw the cloth aside, 
and answered, " I stand before Him who made me, 
and standing will I give Him back my spirit." Then 
handing to the corporal a zwanziger, which " even in 
that moment reminded him of his unhappy fatherland," 
he charged him to aim well, and gave the word " Fire !" 
Not till the second discharge was life extinct. 



214 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

The body was carried by the grenadiers to Saint 
Michael's church, where it lay for a time, with candles 
burning, under the eyes of a guard, that all men might 
see that the redoubtable leader of the Tyrolese insur- 
gents was really dead. After that, they buried him in 
the garden of his confessor, and recorded his name and 
fate on a tablet on the wall. 

Truly has it been said, that if great men would but 
really believe in a Providence, they would not make so 
many mistakes. In the case of Hofer, Napoleon scru- 
pled not to add one more to his list of wilful murders. 
No magnanimity could be exercised towards the simple- 
hearted peasant, who had loved his country but too 
well. And look at the moral ! Four years later, Tyrol 
was restored to Austria, and the peasantry of the 
mountains could give expression once more to their 
ancient attachment. It was, however, ill rewarded. 
The insurrection, on which they prided themselves so 
much, was not to be spoken of ; booksellers were for- 
bidden to sell the narrative of the spirit-stirring events ; 
and some of the rights and privileges which Bavaria 
had granted and confirmed, were annulled or withheld. 
Yet the people cherished their ancient faith, and many 
a poet gave secret utterance to the feelings inspired by 
glorious recollections. 

The Sandwirth was not forgotten ; and, at length, his 
friends — who were neither few nor unimportant — suc- 
ceeded in moving the government to do justice to his 
memory. In 1824, Hofer's body was disinterred and 
conveyed to Botzen, from whence it moved in sad and 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYEOL. 215 

slow procession to Innsbruck. And here, in the chief 
city of his beloved fatherland, it was laid in the tomb, 
on the day following the fourteenth anniversary of his 
execution. It was another triumphal entry, and in 
presence of a greater throng than attended the hero in 
that memorable "Anno Nine." From every hill and 
valley the peasantry came, an astonishing multitude. 
The governor of Tyrol was there ; the nobles and wor- 
thies of the land walked in the proudly-mournful train, 
amid long columns of the Imperial troops, and solemn 
strains of martial music sounded. There paced the 
clergy, in sacred vestments, with crosier and crucifix 
borne aloft. On the coffin lay Holer's hat and sword, 
the gold chain and medal. Twelve Wirthe bore the 
pall, and many of his " weapon-brothers " followed. 
And so the body was carried to the Imperial church — 
the church where he had given thanks for victory and 
the Emperor's favour, and bent the knee in worship, 
where around Maximilian's tomb the olden time per- 
petuates its noblest in bronze — and laid in its final 
resting-place, while the Abbot of Wiltau pronounced a 
benediction. The next day a requiem was sung in St. 
Jacob's church; and with all other feelings lost in the 
one great sense of sorrow, the multitude joined in 
honour of him, who, seeking nothing for himself and 
everything for his country, was in life and death the 
embodiment of Tyrolese faith and bravery. 



216 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 



CHAPTER XI. 

The Strangers' Book — Relics of Hofer — More Honesty — Jauffenburg — 
The Oetzthal Glaciers— Up the Jauffen — A sturdy Woman — "What 
she wanted to know — The last Stare — The Mountain Path — The sham 
Doctor — A Climb — The Summit — A Wirthshaus — Fir-woods — Sterzing 
■ — Cheap Entertainment — The Brenner Road — A Retrospect — The 
Ambuscade — Destruction of the Saxons — A Surrender — The " Saxon 
Cleft" — The Duke discovers his Mistake — The Kapuziner, Joachim 
Haspinger — His Life and Exploits — " The Eothbart is up" — The 
Patriarch at Salzburg — Tyrolese Heroes — Speckbacher and his little 
Son. 

At the end of my dinner, the hostess brought 
me first the new and then the old Strangers' Book. 
The old one is quite full of visitors' names, inter- 
spersed with scraps of rhyme, and sundry attempts 
at moralizing. As appears on the first pages, it was 
dedicated to the Hofer family by Count Wimpffen, in 
1835. A biographical sketch of Hofer follows, in Ger- 
man, French, Italian, and English ; the latter evidently 
not written by an Englishman. The writer may have 
been a good Tyrolese, for he mentions the relics of the 
patriot preserved at Innsbruck, and expresses a hope 
that his betrayer was intoxicated when he committed 
the foul offence. This sketch is certified by a memo- 
randum, in the hand of the Archduke John. 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYEOL. 217 

There are relics here, too. Those targets, hanging 
in the shed, were his. From the numerous bullet-holes 
near the centre, you may infer what chance a French- 
man had at a hundred yards from his rifle. You may 
read his name and that of his wife in the blazonry of 
the sign : Andre von Hofer und Anna yon 
Hofer, geb. Ladurner. His corpse was ennobled 
while it lay in the grave at Mantua, in 1818: hence 
the prefix von. You see the chamber and bed in which 
he slept ; on the wall hangs a crayon portrait of his 
comely daughter, and one of his last letters, written in 
a homely but firm hand. There are an old press, in 
which his clothes were kept, his green coat, and other 
garments, his girdle, and hat, bearing the words, Ober- 
commandant von Tirol. 

Hofer's wife died in 1836 ; two of his three daughters 
were married in Passeyr : all are now dead. His son, 
Johann von Hofer, who had little of the father about 
him besides the name, and his grandson, were taken 
care of by the Court at Vienna ; and some of the family 
connexions were provided for by being put in charge, 
as already mentioned, of Schloss Tyrol. 

A certain spot on the bastion of Mantua has become 
sacred for the Tyrolese ; and to them this house is a 
shrine : thousands from all lands have visited it since 
Hofer's death. The fountain at which he drank still 
plays ; the river still runs, telling of his fame ; and, as 
of old, the snowy-crested mountains look down on his 
dwelling-place. 

As at Saltaus, the hostess informed me, when I paid my 



218 OK FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

score, that in the Passeyrthal the zwanziger is reckoned 
at twenty-seven kreutzers : more honesty. I went on 
to St. Leonhard, a busy village, with a tannery, and 
mineral baths, and up the hill beyond, to the- castle 
— Jauffenburg, a time-worn ruin. It crowns a steep 
knoll ; broken walls and shattered towers, surrounded 
by trees, and a tangle of shrubs and brambles. From 
the lower side there is a far-reaching view down the 
valley, taking in, as is said, the towers of Lowen- 
burg, near Meran ; but I could not make them out. 
You see now how small the portion extorted from the 
slopes for cultivation ; and the scene is somewhat melan- 
choly in aspect. Yet, looked at by the light of history, 
its interest is great. Before you stretches what has 
been named the Switzerland of Tyrol. On the right, 
where the valley branches off, you catch a glimpse of 
the eternal glaciers of the Oetzthal, from whence the 
Passeyr comes rushing down in a roaring fall. It was 
near those glaciers that Hofer made his hiding-place. 

From the ruin a steep and stony path leads over the 
Jauffen — Mons Jo vis of the Romans — to Sterzing, — a 
short cut ever since the days of the Rhaetians, and 
much frequented before the road was made along the 
valley of the Eisack. The French attempted more than 
once to pass it during the war, and were rudely re- 
pulsed by the peasantry. 

The afternoon was hot, and the path, which resembled 
the dry bed of a torrent paved with boulders, toilsome, 
twisting here and there among the firs, and shaded in 
places by walnuts and elders. I was taking a brief rest 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 219 

by the side of a cool spring, when a woman, barefoot, 
with a basket on her shoulders, came up and took a 
seat immediately facing me, on the opposite side of the 
narrow path. She had legs that a drayman might 
envy, and seemed to me the very model of Tennyson's 
" mighty daughters of the plough," 

" Stronger than men, 
Huge women, blowzed with health, and wind and rain, 
And labour." 

From the moment of her sitting down, she stared 
fixedly at me with great eyes, her mouth half-open, as 
if spell-bound. I returned her stare for two minutes, 
and then asked, " Are you very much astonished ?" 

" Jo-o-o" she answered, with the broad twang of the 
Passeyrers. 

Another stare. Then, Where did I come from ? and 
it said but little for her delicacy of ear that she guessed 
wrong. I was German, Italian, Frencher, Hungarian; 
and loud was her exclamation, " Aus England I" when 
I declared myself. She stared at me again as if I 
had been a *Pagan ; perhaps excogitating the questions 
which presently followed. Did ash- trees grow in Eng- 
land? and she slapped the stem of one at her side. 
Fir-trees? slapping a stately larch on the other side. 
And elders? — and vines? "So! Not many vines. 
What do they drink there ? Beer. So ! Is it good ? 
Do they eat oxen-flesh ?" 

" Don't they !" 

Another stare. Then, "Are you Lutheran or Ca- 
tholic?" 



220 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

Judging from the stare of surprise that followed, she 
could never before have set eyes on a Protestant. 
However, she ended by telling me that she was going 
half an hour farther up the mountain, and would be 
glad to carry my knapsack that distance for six 
kreutzers ; so we trudged on together, except that at 
times she fell into the rear to indulge herself with a stare, 
and came hurrying on when I looked round. At the 
turning near her hut, she sat down on a big stone, took 
her fee with a laconic " Dank" and, as I failed not to 
observe, remained staring till I was out of sight. 

Now the path runs along the precipitous slope, high 
above the valley, in places crossing chasms on a floor of 
poles rudely fenced. It commands striking views. Be- 
yond Walten, the last village, a haymaker detained me 
for a little talk, and ran off to fetch a sick neighbour of 
his, who wanted the doctor. I kept a good countenance 
when the patient came up. He was a sturdy, sun- 
burnt fellow, with no other ailment than a stiffness of 
six weeks' duration in his left arm. I felt his pulse, 
poked his ribs, made a few mesmeric passes down the 
arm, and ordered him to swing it. While swinging, 
he found he could bend it a little ; whereupon I pre- 
scribed a half-hour's friction by his wife's hand from 
shoulder to wrist night and morning, and, that his mind 
might help the cure, assured him he would be able to 
join the mowers in a fortnight. He replied with many 
thanks, and I left him, sincerely hoping the result 
would justify his faith in the English doctor. 

Then comes the climb : up — up, with scarce a foot 






ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 221 

of level to ease the strain. Now pastures, now fir- woods, 
now a lonely cottage, where you may assure yourself 
of the way, which is not hard to find. Then above the 
trees to the bare, thin turf, strewn in places with patches 
of gravel, and protruding rocks, among which you may 
quench your thirst from cool and bubbling springs. No 
snow, except one dirty patch in a deep hollow. Then 
poles to mark the way in winter, and a tall cross, and 
by-and-by the topmost ridge. It was four o'clock when 
I stood on the summit, an elevation of nearly seven 
thousand feet. The view is grand and impressive : a 
great assemblage, amphitheatre-like, of snow-peaks, 
among which the JaufTen appears to be central and 
lowest, comprehending what is regarded as the heart of 
Tyrol. The form of some of the rocky peaks is magni- 
ficent ; and the glaciers of the Oetzthal and Stubayer- 
thal rear their wild masses high against the sky. 

Then down to a turfy level, where, about half a mile 
from the brow, stand a lone Wirthshaus and a little chapel. 
Here you can get coarse bread, eggs, cheese — tough as 
sole-leather, and wine, at double the cost of that you 
drank in the valley. ■ The kitchen smells frouzy, as if 
neither door nor window had been opened since the 
winter fire was let out in the great stove that blocks up 
one corner. What a relief to come forth again to the 
pure air of the mountain ! 

Among the firs once more : past a series of pictures — 
" stations" for the edification of the devout ; past women 
toiling homewards with a burden of fodder that seems 
a load for a horse: a delightful evening walk. The 



222 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

range on the opposite side of the valley, with its miles 
of dark wood, thrown into bold relief, and the shadows 
deepening as the sun drops lower. Then banks of 
wild strawberries; two or three villages; and all the 
descent stony and tiresome. It was dusk as I passed 
the Sterzinger Moos, a vast swamp that taints and chills 
the air, and is memorable for battles that have been 
fought around its borders. I entered the Krone at 
Sterzing — one of the best inns on the road — at nine, 
quite tired enough with my day's work to make rest 
acceptable. The solid walls, and groined and vaulted 
ceiling, give you the idea of a convent ; but there is 
no conventual gloom: guests are numerous, and the 
attendants bustling. For supper, they brought me 
beer and soup, bouilli with stewed prunes, mutton cut- 
lets, salad, and apricots, for which, with bed and break- 
fast, they charged no more than one-and-eightpence. 

I was now on the great road of the Brenner, having 
missed Botzen and Brixen by coming over the JaufFen. 
I missed, too, the defile, which, commencing a few 
miles below Sterzing, was the scene of the most fatal 
ambuscade in all the war. Let us take a brief glance 
at what took place before we get farther away. 

When, at the beginning of August of the year so 
frequently mentioned, Lefebvre, Duke of Dantzig, found 
the Tyrolese, embittered by the defection of Austria, 
preparing to renew the struggle, and avenge his re- 
occupation of Innsbruck, he sent a Saxon division to 
keep the communications open across the Brenner. The 
troops were annoyed by sharpshooters all along the 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 223 

line of march, and found the road barricaded in places, 
but met with no serious resistance until, having passed 
through Sterzing,_ they advanced on Mauls and Mittel- 
wald, in the deep and narrow defile, through which the 
Eisack struggles with noisy roar, and the road is shut 
in by precipitous cliffs. Another barricade stopped 
them at Mittelwald ; and while hewing a passage, they 
lost a few more of their number. The Tyrolese, how- 
ever, who mustered at first but about seventy men, 
led by the fiery Kapuziner, retired slowly along the 
heights, wishing to draw the enemy farther into the 
defile. The Saxons, brave and determined, pressed on 
to Oberau, where the cliffs recede and leave a small 
basin about two hundred and fifty paces in breadth, in 
which the road crosses from one side of the stream to 
the other. Panting under the sultry heat of the after- 
noon, they entered the basin, and found the bridge 
in flames. They halted. Presently a voice was heard 
crying, on the rocks high above their heads, " Soil I? 
—soil I?" (Shall I ?— shall I ?) " No nit!— no nit!" 
(Not yet ! — not yet !) answered another. Orders were 
given to attempt the passage of the burning bridge. 
The column advanced. Then a voice on the rock once 
more, a Hiesel, hau' ab /" (Hiesel, cut loose !) A few 
quick strokes of the axe, and, as if the hill itself were 
falling, down rushed rocks, trees, and mounds of earth, 
crashing through everything, burying the affrighted 
Saxons in heaps, or hurling them into the river. Then 
cries of alarm and agony, mingling with the impetuous 
dash of the half-choked stream, the tramp of horses, and 



224 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

the exulting shouts of the Tyrolese. A trooper galloped 
madly for the bridge, but ere he passed the blazing 
beams gave way, and steed and rider perished in the 
river. A portion yet remained standing, and a num- 
ber of the troops got across, under a hot fire from the 
Tyrolese, who followed up their avalanche by a con- 
tinuous storm of rocks and bullets. Some' of the 
Saxons, rather than stand like sheep to be shot down, 
made a dash at the hill-side to take the sharpshooters in 
flank. One aged peasant, who had been firing from a 
projecting rock, surprised by a grenadier, who cut off 
his retreat, attempted to master him by wrestling ; but 
too weak, he grasped him round the body and leaped 
over the precipice, amid the cheers of the Tyrolese. 

The numbers of the peasantry multiplied during the 
night. From every side came Speckbacher, Hofer, 
and other well-known leaders, with their men, to 
strengthen the Kapuziner 's scanty troop. At daybreak 
on the 5th, the Saxons were driven back on Oberau, 
and there kept at bay by a murderous fire. The French 
general, irritated at his failure, ordered four peasants 
who had been taken prisoners to be shot. The deed 
was avenged, for the instant afterwards twelve of his 
men fell dead on the same ground. The Saxons 
suffered cruelly from thirst. The Tyrolese had re- 
moved all the pipes and gutters of the fountains ; and 
any one who ventured to draw water from the stream 
was at once shot down. Some of the grenadiers fetched 
a cask of wine out of the Sack — a well-known Wirths- 
haus — and beating-in the head, a throng collected 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 225 

around to drink. Whiz ! — a man fell bleeding across the 
cask ; yet still the drinking went on, so fierce was the 
tormenting thirst. 

At noon a white flag was hung out, and the victory 
of the peasants was complete. Eight officers, including 
some of the highest rank, had been killed, nineteen 
wounded, and twenty-two were taken prisoners, and of 
the troops nearly a thousand were slain. The defile 
between Oberau and Unterau is still known as the 
" Saxon Cleft," 

The Duke of Dantzig refused to believe the road 
impassable. He sent Count Arco in a carriage, with 
only two outriders, to instal himself as governor of 
Brixen: the Count returned quicker than he went. 
The Duke himself set out — nothing should stop him — 
he would have his despatches dated "Botzen" before 
he was a league from Innsbruck : " Better wait till we 
are really in Botzen," suggested one of his officers. He 
boasted to the mistress of the house at Sterzing, where 
he slept, that he was going to " chew up the cursed 
neasants ;" but he did not advance so far as the Saxons. 
He was nearly made -prisoner; was driven back inch by 
inch, harassed with a galling fire, and on the 13th was 
taught by his crushing defeat at Berg Isel, that the 
peasants who were brave enough to be Englishmen, 
could do what the English were doing with his brother 
marshals in Spain, 

I have mentioned the Kapuziner more than once in 
the foregoing pages, and should like to say a few words 
concerning him while on the ground he so often tra- 

Q 



226 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

versed in his daring exploits. Joachim Haspinger was 
born in 1776, and while yet a student took part in the 
campaign of 1796-99. In 1802 he devoted himself to 
the. service of the Church, and joined the order of 
Capuchins : hence his familiar name, the Kapuziner. 
But his ardent spirit could not remain quiet within the 
w T alls of a convent, especially when his country was 
threatened; and when the war of 1809 broke out, 
Father Joachim renewed his services as army-chaplain. 
Inspired by his ardent patriotism, his ability for com- 
mand, and indefatigable valour, the peasantry of the hills 
along the Eisackthal recognized him as their leader : 
and well did he justify their confidence. He wore 
always his priestly gown, ready alike to soothe the 
wounded, shrive the dying, or attack the foe. No 
danger and no fatigue daunted him. He would under- 
take long journeys, toil for hours through the snow of 
the highest passes, to concert plans with Hofer or the 
other leaders, and hasten back to play his own part. 
Wherever he appeared the ardent Kapuziner carried all 
before him; never more successfully than in the con- 
flicts here described. The Duke of Dantzig, unable to 
conquer him in the field, offered a bribe — high rank 
and dignity in the Church ; but the formidable priest 
was not to be so disarmed, and he returned an angry 
refusal. The Duke rejoined, " When I catch you, red- 
bearded churl, I will hang you on the nearest tree, and 
tear out every hair of your beard one by one." To 
which was retorted, " Perhaps the Redbeard may catch 
the Marshal!" an event which, as we have seen, did 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 227 

nearly happen. To have been foiled by a priest in- 
creased the mortification with which the Duke had 
afterwards to bear the reproaches of his Imperial mas- 
ter. From that time Father Joachim has always been 
known as Redbeard (Rothbart). To escape the sum- 
mary process by which the French got rid of Hofer and 
some other leaders, he fled, disguised as a workman, 
through Switzerland to Italy, and returned to Vienna 
in 1810. A golden cross and grants of money were 
conferred on him in acknowledgment of his loyal 
service, and for some years thereafter he officiated in 
different cures of Lower Austria. In 1848, a thrill went 
through Tyrol at the cry, " The Rothbart is up again !" 
and hundreds of volunteers flocked around the brave 
old man, who once more as field-chaplain was on his 
way to Italy. Danger seemed to threaten from the 
Italian insurgents, and Tyrol, with her ancient fidelity, 
was again ready to take part in Austria's defence. 
Now the veteran has quarters assigned him in the Im- 
perial summer residence at Salzburg, with a pension of 
a thousand florins a year, and the days of his old age 
pass tranquilly by. ' There, in fine weather, he may be 
seen, sitting under the trees, in deep contemplation. His 
hair is silver-gray ; he is slightly lame, somewhat deaf, 
and very chary of his words ; but speak to him of the 
past, of the events of " Anno Nine," and the old fire 
flashes through every vein, and he will talk of his com- 
rades and their stirring deeds as if but things of yester- 
day. Salzburg did not lay in my route, or I should 
have made it a point to see the venerable patriarch. 

Q2 



228 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

His "jubilee," the fiftieth anniversary of his priest- 
hood, was to be held in September. Since then I have 
heard that he is dead. 

A whole volume might be written about the Tyro- 
lese worthies, and with the effect of raising our esteem 
for manhood. Singularly enough, most of them were 
innkeepers, and men of mark in their respective 
valleys before the war began. Speckbacher died in 
1820. The neighbourhood of Innsbruck was the prin- 
cipal scene of his operations. Where he was, the enemy 
had no rest. From among the many poems written to 
carry down the memory of national valour, here, to close 
the chapter, is a translation of Seidl's 

SPECKBACHER AND HIS LITTLE SON.* 

" Oh, take me with thee, Father ! the strength and hardihood 
Of men I feel, and I can dare ; nor will I spare my blood." 
" Dear child, 'tis earnest yonder; no gladsome boyish jar; 
'Tis death that lights their priming, and hearts the targets are." 

" I have a heart within my breast, how shall I keep it right, 
If I must like a coward hide, and shun the bullet's flight ?" 
" Remain, boy, if thou lov'st me ! when thou art once a man, 
Then show that thou canst do and dare, as now thy father can ! " 

Speckbacher spoke, and lifted the dear one from his breast; 
But he quenched not with weeping the battle's eager zest. 
Speckbacher, as the chamois, flies over stock and stone — 
His darling as the chamois steals after him alone. 

And soon beneath the giant feet of wondrous glacier lands, 
Amid the tried and trusty few the glowing hero stands ; 
And, panting in the bushes, where he his way had won, 
Lurks with undaunted courage his selfsame-hearted son. 

Then comes the storm of bullets, and back the answer flies, 

And storm on storm succeeds, and quick the mountain storm replies : 

It is as if from rock to rock all thro' the fatal game, 

Flashed serpent-like, in fiery coil, a quivering belt of flame. 

* Speckbacher und sein Sohnhin. 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 229 

But still the foemen firing, pour in their shot like hail, 
And in the troop upon the heights the lead begins to fail : 
The eager boy has thought thereon, and while the shower falls, 
He running lightly here and there has gathered up the balls. 

Their need is scarcely spoken, than quickly forth he springs, 

And tells half shy how he had wrought, and what the store he brings — 

How when the hostile bullets fell he hastening round about, 

With ready hand before they cooled had plucked them quickly out. 

The father took the bullets, and felt his bosom throb, 

And while he loads, can scarce repress the thrilling tearful sob. 

He would embrace, and yet must fire, — would blame yet must advise ; 

And standing there before his boy, loud to his comrades cries, — 

" Tyroler brothers, hearken ! this time be none ill-sped, 
The foe in murderous onset hath wasted here his lead : 
Now every shot must hit the mark, whatever else befall, 
For loyalty hath brought the charge, and innocence the ball." 



230 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 



CHAPTER XII. 

The Miners' Architecture — On the Highway — The Eisack — Gossensass 
— Wildbad — Summit of the Brenner — Life at the Post — Source of the 
Eisack — Gries — Gigantic Crucifix — Steinach — A Burning Out — The 
Wippthal — Matrey — Schonberg — Old-fashioned Wirthshaus — Beau- 
tiful View — Stubayerthal — Berg Isel — Striking Prospect — Innsbruck 
— The Innthal — The Abbey of Wiltau — The Oesterreichischer Hof— 
City Scenes — Fantastic Gables — The Imperial Church — Heroes in 
Bronze — Maximilian's Tomb — The Silver Chapel — Hofer's Tomb — 
The Ferdinandeum — The Public Walk — The River — Nightfall— 
Schloss Ambras — Giant Haymo — The Weierberg — Market-day — The 
Passport Clerk — Leave Innsbruck — Martinswand — Zirl — Raft Builders 
— Sausage Eaters — Obermiemingen — Obsteig — A poor Parish — Queen 
and Emperor — English same as German — Up the Marienberg — Last 
View of the Innthal — The Summit — The Grunstein — Inn and Isar — 
Eagles' Nests — Bieberwier — Leermoos — Sunday Rifle Practice — Hei- 
terwang — Schloss Ehrenberg — Reute — A Swoon. 

Sterzing is an old town, built chiefly by miners, 
and you can see how some of the wealthier sort took 
pleasure in ornamenting their low, cottage-like houses 
with projecting windows and other architectural fancies. 
They took pride in their native town. The tall church 
tower, which rose before us as a beacon yesterday, when 
coming in tired from the Jauffen, was erected at their 
cost. Now they decorate their windows with living 
flowers, and so make a pleasing set-off to the quaint 
devices of a former day. The house that once belonged 
to the Jochels family is especially remarkable, and your 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 231 

time will not be lost in looking for it, and the other local 
peculiarities that may be seen on the way. 

Here again we have a landscape without vines. 
Brixen is their limit on this slope of the Brenner, and 
Sterzing, though it seems low to one coming down from 
the JaufYen, is yet at an elevation of three thousand feet. 
The road rises gradually by the side of the Eisack, with 
rocky scenery here and there ; patches of firs, and an 
old castle or two, reminding you of the days when to 
rob was noble. The Brenner is the lowest pass of the 
Alps, and broad-wheeled wagons travel over it every 
day. There is nothing adventurous in the ascent to 
beguile the wayfarer. The traffic is great, and public- 
houses are numerous, for wagoners are everywhere a 
thirsty race. You come upon the heavy-laden vehicles, 
toiling slowly upwards, drawn by ten horses, or meet 
them lumbering downwards by twos and threes, and 
only kept from doing mischief by quick eyes and 
ready hands. Wherever a shoe-board is erected by the 
road-side, there you will hear sudden shouts, and see 
one swarthy fellow spring to the break and twist the 
screw with might and main, while # a second lets fall the 
shoe, and a third warns the horses. Witnessing their 
exertions you will not wonder that public-houses are 
frequent. 

In the village of Gossensass you will see curious 
paintings on some of the house-fronts : Saint George 
and the dragon, a big knight with a little drum, and 
other strange effigies. Then Wildbad — a modest water- 
ing-place, with a bathing-house and a few guests stroll- 



232 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

ing about. There are more than a hundred baths and 
mineral springs within the limits of Tyrol. Presently a 
level ? and a group of buildings, from which a little spire 
shoots up — the Post-house on the summit — an elevation 
of 4700 feet. High hills rise on either side, beyond 
which you see peaks bright with snow, and the Wildsee 
Spitz towering aloft nearly as high again. Haymakers 
were busy all around getting in the first crop, and 
labourers, men and women, digging a new channel for 
the infant Eisack, and the place resembled a little colony 
in full activity. At noon the bell rang, and they all 
came trooping in to dinner, during which they talked 
noisily enough : but there was a pause of silence as 
they finished, and then all standing up joined in a brief 
prayer. Then the Stellicagen drove up from Innsbruck, 
and three wagons arrived from the opposite direction, 
and the horses were all turned into the spacious stables. 
The Kellnerinn, who proved herself equal to the emer- 
gency, placed a salad before me, which she said was 
brought from Innsbruck. The garden, indeed, pro- 
duces lettuces ; but at this height they are not read y 
before the end of July. 

I stayed two hours : strolling about the premises, and 
up to the waterfall that tumbles from a rocky gap in 
the hill behind the inn. Near by, an inscription on a 
board tells you it is the source (Ur sprung) of the Eisack ; 
and some travellers describe it as the source, also, of 
the Sill : one half finding its way to the Black Sea by 
the Inn and Danube, the other to the Adriatic — which 
is a mistake ; for the fall produces but one stream (a 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 233 

muddy one), and that is the Eisack. You first see the 
Sill (bright and limpid) on the opposite side of the 
Pass, and have it for a companion, more or less near, 
all the way to Innsbruck. 

Going on again, you soon leave the level for the 
northern slope, where the road curves round a lake, and 
brings you presently to the trimly-kept village of Gries. 
The cupola of the church is green, and the houses are 
green, with a border of red or yellow or some other 
colour round the windows. By the road-side, near 
Steinach, a few miles farther, stands the largest crucifix 
I had yet seen : full twenty feet in height, and bearing, 
in addition to the life-size figure, with its five wounds 
all bleeding, the spear, the reed, hammer, sponge, nails, 
scourge, crown of thorns — everything, indeed, that was 
used in the Crucifixion. No wonder that "Peasant come- 
dies " (miracle-plays) are still written and acted in the 
neighbourhood ! It would hardly be a surprise were an 
actor to step forth and recite, in the words of the old 
mysteries, 

" Here may ye se my woundes wide 
That I suffred for youre mysdede, 
Thrugh harte, liede, fote, hande and syde, 
Not for my gilte, but for your nede." 

There is nothing old about Steinach, except the site. 
While I sat to drink a glass of beer, the hostess told 
me of the great fire that happened in January eight 
years ago, and burnt down the whole village. It was 
terrible to be woke up in the middle of the night, when 
the frost was fierce and the snow lay deep, and, rushing 



234 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

out, find yourself and neighbours presently homeless. 
Even the church was destroyed, and the inn, with the 
room and bedstead in which Hofer slept : nor was the 
" Strangers' book" saved; and she placed a new one 
before me. The rebuilding is still going on, with stone 
instead of wood, and the new church promises to be a 
handsome edifice ; but taxes were so heavy now that it 
was hard to live. Briskly the good dame plied her 
knitting needles as she talked, a very model of Tyrolese 
industry. You never see an idle woman. 

Now the Wippthal widens, the Sill foams along far 
below the road, and you have broad views across the 
hills. At Matrey, a large village of one street, you see 
how picturesque is the effect of wood in comparison with 
stone, as at Steinach. Such varieties of form and colour, 
of windows thrust forward, and doorways kept back, 
so many taverns, with such very conspicuous signs, as 
make up an animated scene — a touch, so it will seem to 
you, of the olden time. 

More and more cultivation as you proceed down the 
valley, and the road, which is good all along the route, 
begins to have the appearances of finish seen in the 
vicinity of a large town. Smooth and hard to walk 
upon; but I like better the turfy, uneven mountain- 
path. Near the Post at Schonberg I struck into the 
old road, and passed the night in the Wirthshaus 
Trauben, at the top of the rise, to be ready for the 
ascent to the summit on the morrow. It was eight 
o'clock ; and while pacing slowly up the steep, I heard 
the murmur of the evening prayer. The Trauben is 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 235 

one of the old-fashioned wooden edifices, with an air of 
snugness about it. One end of the common room is 
occupied by a large meal-bin : measures of meal stood 
in a row along the seats, and a strong-armed woman 
was shaping a large mass of dough into loaves, which 
another carried to the oven. There is something primi- 
tive in the panelled walls and low panelled ceiling, 
and in the form of the chairs, tables, and settles; and 
not less so in the blithesome spirit of the Kellnerinn : 
her singing was a pleasing exception among so many 
that were mute. 

From the Trauben, half an hour's walk across pas- 
tures and under fir-trees brings you to the summit of 
the Schonberg. Beautiful, indeed, is the prospect 
from hence ! Miles of the Stubayerthal lie stretching 
away before you, the alternate masses of pines and 
slopes of green melting into the far distance, where the 
purple fades off into the snow, while between them 
gleams the curving line of the river. At this height, 
nothing appears to mar the beauty. Of the numerous 
iron-works and smithies, where the scythe-blades and 
cutlery are manufactured, of which you will have seen 
so many specimens during your ramble, only a few 
wreaths of smoke are visible. The Stubayerthal is the 
Sheffield of Tyrol ; yet from the distance, Nature with 
her charms conceals the presence of industry. On the 
other side you look into the Wippthal, and away, as it 
seems, from peak to peak, to the limits of the country. 
And why not ? for Tyrol is but about twice the size of 
Yorkshire. 



236 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

Keeping the old road from the Wirtlishaus saves a 
long detour ; and leads you on through pleasant scenes 
till you descend upon the new road, where it crosses 
the valley by a handsome viaduct. All the haymakers 
about here had a cockade and feather in their hats : not 
the first instance that I had seen of a rustic love of 
finery. On one of the houses you may read the owner's 
confession : 

3$ fitrb unb rei$ ftxtS ntdbt roojnn, 
Da§ fommt ftjeti 3d) ntcfrt roacfrfbar bin. 

Another hour, and you come upon a brow, from 
whence the road makes a long sweep round a hollow 
slope to the lower level. You are on Berg Isel, the 
scene of the three glorious victories. Besides the his- 
torical interest of the place, it commands a grand and 
impressive prospect. Innsbruck, about a mile distant, 
and the valley of the Inn lie before you, a valley wider 
than any you have yet seen in Tyrol; and after many 
days of nothing but mountains, the broad expanse of 
green meadows has all the charm of novelty. Amid 
these meadows stands the city, making a goodly show of 
large buildings, towers, and steeples, backed by a mag- 
nificent mountain-range beyond the river. You note 
the Hottinger-Plateau, the Weierberg, and the snow- 
streaked summits, from whence the hunters look forth 
upon Bavaria. Follow the range down with your eye, 
and you will see Hall, the Tyrolese Droitwich, indicated 
by its dense smoke, and the successive ridgy masses 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 237 

away towards Schwatz. The whole region teems with 
interest and beauty. 

A seat enclosed by a circular fence is fixed near the 
edge of the brow, and in my surprise and admiration I 
sat for an hour, contemplating the prospect, and think- 
ing of the glorious events that there befel. A more im- 
pressive finish to a series of memorable scenes could not 
well be imagined. 

After a while, you begin to note the details ; the 
glistening bends of the Inn, the Sill winding through 
the meadows, the antique features of the city, the high 
red roofs, the many white houses, straggling as they 
approach the suburbs, where the landscape becomes at 
once pastoral ; and always the magnificent background 
of mountain and forest. 

I could have sat half the day ; but at length, de- 
scending the cut-off, I passed the Abbey of Wiltau, a 
venerable edifice that dates from the misty times of 
the Niebelungen. Among its relics, you may see the 
tongue of the dragon slain by Haymo, a huge giant, 
who once lived hereabouts, a very terror to his neigh- 
bours. A thunderstorm came rolling down the valley, 
producing wonderful effects of shadow and gloom — 
now hiding the entire range of hills, now unveiling the 
lower slopes, now a gray peak, and it was a question 
whether the rain or I would reach the city first. I kept 
on past the guard-house — no one bidding me stop — 
under the Triumph Gate, built by Maria Theresa, and 
entered the Neustadt, a fine wide street with a fountain 



238 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

in the centre, and some of the public buildings on 
either side. My experience of the cheapness of country 
taverns inclined me to test the charges of the Oester- 
reichischer Hof, the newest, and reputed the best hotel 
in the city. I had not been under its roof five minutes, 
when the sky darkened, and the storm came down with 
fury and uproar, and had its own way for about an 
hour. One of the waiters lost no time in making me 
aware of the difference between rustic life and town 
life, by telling me that dinner would not be served till 
one o'clock. Trench is spoken in the house; and in 
the breakfast-room you will find a table spread w T ith 
newspapers, among which are ubiquitous Galignanij 
and the Innsbrucker Tag-Blatt, — the latter an octavo 
daily, price one kreutzer. 

The afternoon was bright and blue, and not too hot. 
I walked all over the city, and having noted the most 
picturesque sights,returned to them for a leisurely survey. 
The spaces between the pillars of the low arcades which 
border the old streets are crowded with stalls of fruit, 
cakes, and all kinds of wares. These are, indeed, the 
shops of the shoemakers, brushmakers, capmakers, 
cutlers, and others, who live on the several flats of the 
tall houses behind; and you see how industriously their 
wives and daughters knit and sew, while waiting for 
customers. I mounted some of the stairs to look at 
their queer mediaeval construction, and to draw a con- 
clusion as to the habits of those who use them. Dingi- 
ness, rather than dirt, was the characteristic. Needing 
five minutes of professional service from a shoemaker, I 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 239 

went up and had a glimpse of domestic life in Inns- 
bruck on the third flat. In the first room, which served 
as kitchen and parlour, two beds, and the large stove, 
left but narrow space for the two little children to run 
about in. It was tidy, without any attempt at orna- 
ment, or to set things off to the best advantage. The 
cutting-room beyond, a small apartment, strewn with 
hides and waste leather, appeared to be used besides as 
rubbish-hole for the establishment; and in the third 
room half a dozen men sat at work. The master re- 
marked, as he gave me back my boot, what you so 
often hear from his craft on the Continent, that English 
boots are always made too heavy. 

Some of the oldest houses are wonderfully pictu- 
resque, and give you a rare treat in the contemplation 
of their details. Such pains as were once taken to 
make a habitation beautiful ! Such happy conceits in 
the style, and freedom in the ornament ! " Fantastic 
gables," truly ! And between each you see " the little 
wide-mouthed heads upon the spout, with cunning eyes 
to see." You will be detained more than once during 
your stroll by an architectural surprise. The projecting 
window with the gilded roof, built by Duke Friedrich 
to prove that his pocket was not so empty as his ene- 
mies asserted, is now dimmed by age and influences of 
weather, as if 

" The spangled covering, bright with splendid ore, 
Should cheat the sight with empty show no more." 

Near one of the barracks I saw a few soldiers at their 
exercise. Each man came forward in turn, made-believe 



240 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

lie was shooting at somebody, then, describing a circle 
with a quick backward step, he finished with a thrust of 
his bayonet at an imaginary horseman. It seemed to 
me the silliest specimen of drilling I had ever seen. 

Then to the Imperial Church, Hofkirch, an edifice 
remarkable for what it contains. You see, on entering, 
a double row of grand old bronze statues, keeping watch 
as it were over a massive tomb, rising from the centre 
of the nave. Fourteen on a side, and some of them 
giant-like, they perpetuate the memory of the most 
famous men and women of the Austrian dynasty. 
There stands Rudolf of Hapsburg, the founder ; there 
the Ostrogothic King Theodoric ; there Charles the 
Bold, of Burgundy; there I3uke Friedrich; there Jo- 
anna, mother of Charles V. ; there Maximilian's mother 
and sister: but you can read their names on the pe- 
destals. Among them is our King Arthur, a small 
figure, clad in armour from head to foot, not at all 
answering to British ideas of that ancient monarch. 
The stately figures are the more interesting, as they 
are represented in the costume of their times, — dressed 
for war or festival, for the church and the council- 
room; and in the solid metal you trace the embroi- 
deries, the fringes, and delicate patterns of lace, every 
fold and adjustment of the habiliments surprisingly 
distinct. If the bronze be a true likeness, the women 
were remarkable for anything but beauty. The Loffler 
family, Tyrolese artists, who cast them all some three 
hundred years ago, leaving us such admirable proofs of 
their skill, were, perhaps, not less faithful with the fea- 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 241 

tures tlian with the equipments. However, you will find 
a deep impression grow upon you while pacing slowly 
up and down this avenue of the great and mighty. 

And the tomb which they guard in grim silence : it 
is a marvel of workmanship ! About ten feet in height, 
each side and end is covered with panels in relief of 
Carrara marble, twenty-four altogether — exquisite sculp- 
tures, which have been happily called " pictures in 
marble." They represent events and incidents in the 
life of Maximilian, chiefly battles and sieges, inter- 
spersed with marriages, triumphal processions, and diplo- 
matic conferences. The great emperor's likeness, and 
the characteristic features of the different individuals, 
are well brought out ; and the perspective effects are 
admirably preserved. You will wonder not less at the 
patience of the Flemish artist, Collin, by whom they 
w r ere carved, than at his skill. Twenty only are from 
his hand : the last four, by another chisel, betray, though 
unfinished, the master's absence. On the top of the 
tomb kneels Maximilian himself, in marble, with his 
face towards the altar. 

The several panels are kept covered by shabby 
screens, which the attendant removes as he conducts 
you from one to the other, and his deputy loses no time 
in replacing them as you pass on, lest the inquisitive 
eyes which look from the outside of the railing should 
see too much gratis. From this show, the red and 
green functionary will conduct you up the steps on the 
right to the Silver Chapel, so named because of the 
altar-piece and Virgin of solid silver which there gladden 

R 



242 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

the eyes of the faithful. You will see the monument of 
the beautiful Philippina Welser, the citizen of Augs- 
burg's daughter, whom Archduke Ferdinand chose for 
his wife, and who, so history assures us, did find happi- 
ness on an Imperial throne. Here also is the Archduke's 
monument, and the armour he wore arranged on a 
bracket, besides other curiosities, among which artists 
especially admire a number of small-sized statues of 
saints ranged along the wall. 

But, turning from the worthies of past centuries, let us 
look at one of the present. There, on the left of the en- 
trance, where an altar once stood, is the tomb of Hofer. 
The peasant hero is here among the rest ; his form 
aloft, his bones beneath the pavement. A block of 
white marble, hewn from his native hills, now sets him 
before the eye as he appeared when living. A bluff, 
manly form in peasant garb, with lace upturned ; one 
hand holding the national banner, the other grasping 
the barrel of the rifle slung from his shoulder. His 
waist-belt, from which hangs his sword, bears on its 
front A 1809 H ; and his hat with its feather lies 
on the ground behind. Your eye wanders with reve- 
rent admiration over the figure — it satisfies your wish ; 
and you will rejoice to find true renown made imperish- 
able in marble, as well as in memory. I returned to 
gaze on it again and again. A bas-relief panel in 
front of the pedestal shows you another picture in 
Carrara, a mountain landscape : Hofer and his con- 
federates swearing to defend their land or die ; every 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYEOL. 243 

hand held aloft, with two fingers raised, while aged men, 
and women and children crowd around with cheers. 

The Ferdinandeum, a museum which forms part of the 
University, comes next ; for there you may see — among 
many specimens of the minerals, fossils, and other 
natural productions, manufactures, and arts of Tyrol 
— a few relics of Hofer : his sword, the hat he wore 
at the time of his execution, some articles of dress, and 
his last letter. Reading the lines traced by his hand 
has brought tears into the eyes of many of his coun- 
trymen. Not a few native painters, as you will see 
in the picture-gallery, have transferred to canvas the 
scene sculptured on the panel of his tomb. 

The palace and theatre, and some other public build- 
ings, as you will discover, are built around spacious 
grounds, well laid out and planted with trees, stretching 
away to the fine avenue of chestnuts and limes by the 
side of the Inn, a favourite promenade of the townsfolk. 

Besides the principal walk, paths wind in and out 
among the shrubs ; and seats placed here and there 
enable you to enjoy the prospect at your ease. Hither 
as evening drew on came numbers of well-dressed 
people for a walk in the cooling breeze ; now and then 
a group of peasants on their way home from the city, or 
soldiers hastening from the country to get in time to the 
barracks. Very different is the appearance of the stream 
from what we saw at Landeck. No noisy roar now, 
with rocks lifting their dark heads above the foam, but 
the full, solemn, rushing sound of a broad, deep stream,. 

R2 



244 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

which, far more than the tumult of rapids, gives you 
a notion of power. I paced up and down, listening to 
it, or leant watching the water, until lights began to 
twinkle on the mountains beyond, seemingly close at 
hand, though two or three leagues distant, and the out- 
line of the summits grew indistinct against the darken- 
ing sky. Then I strolled to the bridge for half an hour, 
and sat on the parapet, to observe the folk who passed 
in the dusk ; and so ended my day. 

There was time the next morning for a short ex- 
cursion. Across the meadows to Schloss Ambras, with 
a glimpse on the way of the fall of the Sill, where it 
leaps from the hills to the plain. There one of the 
fierce and decisive struggles took place in the day of 
battle. And from that chasm the huge giant, Haymo, 
took the ponderous rocks wherewith to build his fortress, 
that through the intervention of a pious monk became 
the Abbey of Wiltau. You can still see rudely carved 
on the wall the effigies of Haymo, and another giant ; 
the one, perhaps, for whose treacherous slaying he 
groaned with remorse till he met the monk. 

The Schloss is now used as barracks, so you have 
nothing to do but to mount, and gaze on the view from 
the battlements. A great expanse of the Innthal lies 
before you, rich green meadows, many villages, Inns- 
bruck and Hall, and the everlasting hills — the region of 
Speckbacher's exploits. He was one of that band of 
heroes of whom Tyrol is justly proud; and, perhaps of 
all, the best fitted for command. Had we time to visit 
Hall we should see his monument in the churchyard. 



ON" FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 245 

On returning, I crossed the ferry; and while the 
boat drifted across by the sole action of the stream on 
the rudder, had a good view up and down the river. 
It amazes you with the majesty of its liquid motion. I 
w T ould fain have tarried a while in contemplation. For 
eighty miles the mighty stream rushes, to fall into the 
Danube at Passau, where, as those say who have seen 
the confluence, it is much the greater of the two. But 
I had to ascend the TTeierberg, from the top of which 
there is a glorious prospect, looking across to Berg Isel, 
our station of yesterday. It will repay you for all the 
time employed in the ascent ; and you may see that the 
environs of Innsbruck would detain you many days 
without weariness. 

I found all the life and bustle of market-day on re- 
entering the city, and the market-place thronged with 
peasantry from all the neighbourhood round. Such a 
commingling of gay colours ! Red waistcoats, green 
jackets, blue stockings; blue, red, and orange kerchiefs 
and petticoats ; caps put on with a jaunty air, and trim 
purple bodices, set off by natty white sleeves: a sight 
full of novelty and animation. Here and there stood 
ox- wains laden with firewood ; here and there a group 
of big men with little sacks of barley, maize, and buck- 
wheat before them; w T hile the women squatted in 
irregular rows, with cream cheese, butter, salad, sorrel, 
onions, and other vegetables on the ground in front. 
Each one's quantity was surprisingly small, — you 
would think hardly worth the bringing. It was the 
produce of gardens high up on the hills, where Nature 



246 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

does not lavish her favours. The children had charge 
of basket-fulls of Alpine flowers — wreaths of rhododen- 
dron mingled with harebells and anemones, that still 
glistened with the morning dew. On the outskirts of 
the throng lay piles of wooden spoons with very long 
handles, queer-looking crockery, shallow glazed dishes — 
the shape unaltered since the days of Kaiser Max ; and 
indeed everything that simple folk could require. In 
the meat-market the price of beef was sixteen kreutzers 
the pound. 

Once more to the Hofkirch, for a last look at Hofer's 
monument, and then I prepared to depart. My reck- 
oning, which included dinner, tea, bed, breakfast, and 
service, amounted to three florins— five shillings. A 
charge of twelve kreutzers for " bougie" was deducted 
on my refusal to pay it: so my experience of the best 
hotel in Innsbruck is not unfavourable. 

I went to the Police Bureau, to ask whether any diffi- 
culty would be made on my re-crossing the frontier. 
The clerk began to search his pigeon-holes for my 
passport, and was not a little surprised when I told him 
it was in my pocket. How could that be ? When had 
I come into the city? Had no one demanded my pass- 
port? My reply, that it was not my habit to stop at a 
guard-house unless ordered to do so, that I had walked 
in through the Triumph Gate at ten in the morning 
of the previous day, and that I had lodged at the 
Oesterreichischer Hof, satisfied him, and he signed my 
passport for Fiissen ; but he made an observation about 
calling somebody to account for negligence. Nothing 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 247 

could be more agreeable than bis demeanour, in which 
respect he was no exception to the other Austrian 
functionaries with whom I came into communication — 
barring always the surly gendarme of the Stelvio. 

I lingered a few minutes while crossing the bridge 
for yet another look up and down the river, and then 
took the road leading up the left bank to Zirl. There 
was a charm about Innsbruck that I had not found in 
Trent, with all its sunny luxuriance. The honour in 
which rifle practice is held is indicated by what you see 
on the outskirts of the town — the Royal and Imperial 
Provincial Chief Shooting Station : a spacious ground, 
furnished with sheds, rests, targets, and all appur- 
tenances essential to success with the national weapon. 
Here on certain occasions the best marksmen from all 
parts of the country come together, to compete for the 
prize awarded to the most skilful ; and great are the 
excitement and enthusiasm. 

Straight runs the road, an apparently interminable 
avenue of apple-trees, bordered by vast fields of maize. 
By-and-by the valley narrows, the road rises, the apple- 
trees are succeeded by firs, and you get sight of a fine 
curve of the river, embracing an island in its sweep, 
and a distant view of the city. Then a magnificent 
cliff, a thousand feet in height, the base strewn with 
fallen rocks. It is the Martinswand — the fearful place 
where Kaiser Max came near losing his life while 
hunting the chamois, and would have lost it but for the 
strength and intrepidity of a mountaineer, who rescued 
him from his peril. The incident has been made the 



248 ON" FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

subject of poems, and is sung in nursery rhymes, with 
a hint that the rescuer could only have been an angel. 
Far, far up you can see the cross which marks the spot 
where the great Emperor hung between life and death. 
From thence your eye will wander to the summit of 
the Solstein, of which mountain the cliff is one of the 
buttresses. Those who say there is " barely room" for 
the road between it and the river have a very lively 
imagination. 

Nach Baiern — to Bavaria — meets your eye on a 
finger-post at Zirl, where the road that leads to Munich 
ascends the hill. Follow it for a few yards, and you 
come to the ruins of Castle Fragenstem. After a look 
at the old walls I resumed my route by the river, 
wishing to remain as long as possible among the 
mountains. The valley grows always narrower, and 
the hills in some places descend upon the road. Now 
crosses and crucifixes are rare; but pictures of the 
Virgin are to be seen here and there on the house- 
fronts. Wheat-fields, in which I saw the reapers busy, 
alternate with maize, where the hills recede. Of vines 
you see, perhaps, one or two trained against the walls 
while passing a village, reminding you how different is 
the climate from that beyond the Brenner. 

Signs of business near Petnau. Sawpits on one side 
of the road, great stacks of firewood, men sawing and 
splitting timber, and the river close on the other side, 
with men and women building rafts on its shallow 
margin. These rafts are fan-shaped, formed by lashing 
and clamping twenty or more fir-stems together side by 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 249 

side, the small ends all pointing in one direction. Upon 
this floor the cleft wood is carefully piled to a height of 
two or three feet : rude oars and a rudder are made by 
nailing short boards to the end of a pole, and these 
being as rudely fitted to their place, two men get on 
the raft, push from the tranquil shallow into the swift 
current, and away it floats broad end foremost to Inns- 
bruck, or to the Salt-works at Hall. No need to row, 
for in two hours the raft is at Innsbruck, a distance 
which takes five hours to walk. A dozen rafts were in 
hand, and the runners crossing the road continually, 
brought arm-fulls of wood from the stacks and kept the 
raftmen busy. 

While drinking a glass of beer at Telfs I saw the 
periodical sausage-making. A man and boy filled at 
one table with a big syringe, while at another sat half 
a dozen men, feasting on the savoury fare. The Kellne- 
rinn brought in one portly sausage after another freshly 
boiled, and slitting the skin at one end, emptied the 
contents into the plates. She pressed me to eat, and as 
the odour was appetizing, I should perhaps have com- 
plied had I not dined at Zirl. 

Here the main road turns suddenly aside and crosses 
the Inn to Imst, and so on to Landeck and Bregenz. I 
took a by-road leading up the hill-slopes, and fancied, 
while rosy streaks shot up from the sun, fallen behind 
the hills, tinging the rocky summits with glorious hues, 
that of all enjoyments walking was the greatest. I 
halted for the night in the Speckbacher Wirthshaus at 
Ober Miemingen. 



250 ON FOOT THEOUGH TYROL. 

At ten next morning I was taking my second break- 
fast at Obsteig, while the innkeeper and bis family sat 
down to tbeir dinner. It was their usual hour on Sun- 
days. Mass was just over, and some of the villagers 
came in for their glass of Schnaps. To my inquiry as to 
what they did with themselves for the rest of the day, 
they answered, " Oh ! here is always the Wirthshaus, 
and we can play at cards." They sometimes have but 
one service, as the priest has to trudge from chapel to 
chapel among the hills. There are only two horses, and 
not one tailor in the whole parish; but a migratory 
tailor visits them from time to time, and works for 
fifteen kreutzers a day and his food. It was so seldom 
that an Englishman came that way, that they had a 
world of questions to ask about England, and seemed 
most interested on the subject of money. " Is there 
paper money in England like this?" asked one, holding 
up a dirty, crumpled ten-kreutzer note ; and great was 
their astonishment to hear that we had no bank-notes 
for a less amount than sixty florins. u Himmel! that 
is though a rich country !" 

Could I show them some English money? I brought 
out a half-crown and shilling bearing the venerable 
effigy of George III. The large coin was praised as 
"something like money." But on my producing a 
bright sovereign stamped with the image of Victoria, 
there was a general outburst of admiration. " A 
charming woman!" {Eine scharmante Frau !) was the 
cry as it passed from hand to hand. And that was 
worth twelve florins ! " Ja, ja, ja, in England is one 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 251 

very rich." Her Majesty's ally, whose coinage I next 
showed, found but scant favour. "Ah! the peaked- 
beard!" (Achl der Spitzbart!) 

Would I speak some English, that they might hear 
how it sounded? Whereupon I recited a string of 
words, such as father, mother, butter, hand, finger, &c, 
which are nearly or quite identical in sound in English 
and German. " Horen Sie 'mal? — Do you hear that ? 
Why, English is just the same as German !" In which 
happy notion I left them. 

From Obsteig, a path over the Marienberg cuts off a 
long and hilly sweep of the road which mounts over 
the range at Nassereit. The Pass is not in sight from 
the village, but I made myself aware of its situation, 
so as to avoid perplexity among the paths that are 
generally numerous on the lower slopes. Once, on the 
single footway leading up the steep, there is little 
chance of going astray. Here it is a rough, narrow 
track, winding up the side of a valley, interrupted here 
and there by a wild gorge, only to be crossed by a zig- 
zag out of the direct course. These mountain-paths 
are kept in repair by the respective parishes; the 
parishioners who possess most cattle being expected to 
do most days' work. The valley becomes a glen, and 
its windings lead you into the recesses of the hills, 
where lofty summits look down on you, the Griinstein, 
with its giddy crown of cliffs, rising above all. In one 
place I crossed the track of an avalanche that had fallen 
in May. The slope, for about forty feet in breadjth, 
was stripped bare, nothing being left but the naked 



252 ON FOOT THEOUGH TYROL. 

surface of stones and rocks, witli here and there the 
splintered stump of a fir-tree, half uptorn, and leaning 
over from the shock. And in the gulf below lay a 
huge mound of dirty snow, intermingled with shrubs, 
trees, weeds, and stones, the wreck brought down by 
the overwhelming slide. It is a sight that fills you 
with amazement at the tremendous destructive powers 
of masses of snow. 

You must be alone if mountains are to make their 
full impression on you, if whatever in you that har- 
monizes with their grand nature is to be touched. 
There is something in the gradual leaving behind of 
human habitation, of the sounds of labour, the noise 
of the valleys, that prepares the mind, as it seems to 
me, for the regions of solitude aud silence — where even 
the torrent's roar is heard but as the murmur of a 
shell. And as the devious path mounts yet aloft, then a 
solemn gladness possesses your heart, and your being 
wakes to a sense of its privilege. And besides the 
charm of the wild, lonely scenery, there is a sense of 
insecurity ; for storm-clouds may on a sudden envelop 
the mountain-tops, and break the deep stillness by the 
uproar of tempest. 

Happily for me the sunshine prevailed, and nothing- 
marred my enjoyment. At the last bend of the glen I 
got a striking view, looking down on the summits of 
some of the hills that §eemed the highest when seen 
from below. No lack of white to contrast with the 
other colours, and brighten the tints, for one-tenth of 
Tyrol is always under snow. A glimmering gray 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 253 

spot showed where lay the town of Imst. A little 
farther, and the path rises to an easy slope of pasture, 
where cattle and sheep are grazing, and you see a small 
wooden oratory, and the herdsman's hut — a miserable 
hovel — and between the two a deliciously cool spring. 
The upper end of the slope is shut in by a steep ridge, 
on which grow a few stunted firs among masses of rock ; 
and that once reached, you are on the summit — a 
height of seven thousand feet. 

A glorious view of mountain-tops all around ! Even 
the nearest valleys are hidden by the crowding spurs 
and ridges, which, bare, turfy, or bristling with pines, 
produce an endless diversity of effects of sunlight and 
shadow. That bit of green yonder, traversed by a pale, 
gleamy stripe, is part of the Innthal with its sound- 
ing river. It was my last look towards the south, 
across peaks innumerable, to the heart of the country — 
the "land in the mountains," as Tyrol was called of 
yore — and it held me for a while in contemplation. 
Could it be possible that I had felt fatigue while wan- 
dering in those purple distances, which, seen from hence, 
appear so exquisitely beautiful ? 

Turning round you behold another kind of beauty 
in the magnificent towering crags of the Grunstein — 
bluish-gray cliffs rising sixteen hundred feet higher. 
The savage stony slopes along their base are relieved, 
here and there, by patches of yet unmelted snow, which 
glisten like streaks and sheets of silver. From the 
summit, and from all the loftiest points along the range, 
you can see the Inn on one side, and the Isar on the 



254 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

other. Eagles build in all the loftiest cliffs, and every 
summer adventurous hunters risk their lives in attempts 
to plunder their nests. Opposite the ridge a huge 
promontory juts out to the edge of the firs, forming 
one side of a vast, grim amphitheatre, round the rim of 
which runs the path we shall presently follow. Seek- 
ing an outlet, your eye rests on a bright green basin 
far below, and the village of Leermoos lying within it, 
apparently with pleasant environment ; all between is 
forest. And beyond you see the mountains which abut 
on the broad plains of Bavaria. Some of the Tyrolese 
hunters migrate to those mountains in the winter in 
quest of game, and take up their quarters in the huts 
left vacant by the shepherds. 

At length I betook myself to the descent. Once 
clear of the amphitheatre, the path wanders hither and 
thither, as if to lead to every hidden scene of sylvan 
beauty. Larch and birch mingle in graceful masses, or 
form little glades, where slender stems gleam amid 
feathery foliage. Hearing the gurgle of a streamlet, I 
turned aside into a deep secluded dell, and sat for a 
time on a mossy stone, listening to the pretty noise as 
the water sparkled down the slope in a succession of 
tiny cascades. Not the least charm of getting off the 
high-road is that of surprises which have not been pre- 
dicted ; and you may have many on this descent of the 
Marienberg by a few excursions among the trees, and 
perhaps learn a lesson withal : for 

" Nature cares not, 
Although her loveliness should ne'er be seen 
By human eyes, nor praised by human tongues." 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 255 

From Obsteig to Bieberwier is a steady walk of three 
hours, of which the ascent occupies two. I spent more 
than four hours, for this was my last mountain — the 
seventh of my ramble — and I was reluctant to leave it. 
The forest extends to within a few yards of the road, 
and then you are soon at the village. 

All Bieberwier appeared to be playing at ninepins, 
or looking on. Twenty-five grave-looking men, each 
with a pipe in his mouth, sat watching one set of 
players ; but notwithstanding their gravity of feature, 
they chattered incessantly, and made remarks that were 
responded to by peals of hearty laughter. Sunday was 
apparently to them a real holiday. I had been struck 
in most of the villages I had passed through by the 
absence of children, especially of boys ; but here the 
youngsters mustered in goodly numbers. 

A short distance farther, the road turns into a beau- 
tiful hollow, and there is Leermoos before you, looking 
not less pleasant than when seen from the mountain-top. 
Three vales branch off, each a pleasing landscape, and 
the hollow itself, carpeted with brilliant verdure and 
watered by sparkling brooks, delights the eye, and the 
cultivation encroaching on the stubborn slopes betokens 
a resolute spirit of industry. Switzerland and Tyrol 
exhibit note-worthy proofs of what may be accomplished 
by tillage under unfavourable circumstances; yet while 
admiring the patient labour by which barrenness has 
been changed to fertility, we must not forget what has 
been done in Scotland, where the climate is much more 
inhospitable than in the Alps. The results of farming 



256 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

science beyond the Tweed are little less than wonderful. 
They are proofs of continual advancement in skill and 
knowledge, while the peasant of the mountains brings 
no improvement to the cultivation of his little plot. It 
is his own, and he contents himself with the old methods. 
On leaving Bieberwier, I had heard at intervals re- 
ports of rifle-shooting, and the sharp, quick, rattling 
echoes among the hills, and here, at Leermoos, saw the 
a Shooting Stand" occupied by a party in full practice; 
exercise with the national weapon being one of the 
Sunday recreations in Tyrol. The Stand is a small 
stone building by the road-side, at the outskirts of the 
village, with an upper floor partitioned into compart- 
ments, open on the side looking towards the hills. The 
target, a hundred yards distant, is affixed to a screen of 
thick pine logs, behind which the attendant, who wears 
a red jacket, conceals himself when the bullets are 
coming. In each compartment stands a shooter with 
his rifle, and the umpire sits in the central one, with a 
sheet of ruled paper before him, scoring the results; and 
on a long table in the room behind them lay hammers, 
screw-drivers, ramrods, powder-flasks, bullet-moulds, 
and other implements, all of which I saw on mounting 
the stair. As my presence appeared to give no offence, 
I waited to see the practice. The man on the right 
being ready to fire, the umpire blew his whistle; Red- 
jacket whistled in reply, and disappeared behind the 
screen. Cr-r-rack ! went the rifle, and immediately 
Red-jacket darting forth, looked at the target, held up 
his hand with one or more fingers erect, making a 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 257 

signal, which the umpire recorded forthwith by a stroke 
of his pencil, and, blowing his whistle, the next man 
fired, then the next, and so all along the row. There 
seemed something sprite-like about Red-jacket, for out 
he sprang, looking at the target and holding up his 
hand, almost at the instant of pulling the trigger. 
Then, after two or three rounds in this way, came the 
u Probier-schuss" — proof-shot, a trial of skill between the 
two best marksmen. Not one missed the target, and 
scarcely a shot but struck within the small circle, while 
some pierced the bull's-eye. Old targets hang around 
the room as trophies, with all the centre of the bull's- 
eye shot clean away. As each man fired he drew back 
to the table to load, and a good-humoured conversation 
was kept up, except at the moment of firing, when every 
one remained silent, with eyes fixed on the target, 
watching for Red-jacket's signal. The rifles are of an 
old-fashioned make, the stocks thin and flat, deeply 
curved for the shoulder, and highly ornamented ; some 
of them heirlooms, prized beyond treasure. 

As I left the Stand, another party of shooters came 
up, among whom a lad of sixteen, carrying his piece 
with all the confidence of one familiar in its use, con- 
trasted well with a gray-haired old man, who, although 
stiff and slow in gait, had a quick bright eye : youth 
and age meeting in the same emulous trial. The 
veteran looked as if he could tell something about 
"Anno Nine;" and his rifle, every part bright with 
affectionate polishing, was of a singularly antiquated 
form. 



258 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

All the bowling-alleys of the village were crowded 
with rustics, trying their skill in another way. The 
proprietor of one makes known on a board over the 
entrance his readiness to undertake carpentry work : 

S)te SfJUtjIerfcfoaff iff nur fe&r flettt 
(Menu* fycit mtd) @ott attetn : 
3$ ac&fe titd)t 5cn fytym ©tolj 
2Ba$ man MUUt ma# 3$ # 0tt ^K 

At Leermoos you see a difference of architecture and 
costume. A street of low, rough cottages, instead of 
the tall large houses with outside stairs and spacious 
galleries, and the women wear bright red kerchiefs on 
their heads, and in other respects dress in the style made 
familiar to us by the Bavarian broom-sellers. The 
road returns upon itself for some distance, as if reluctant 
to quit the pleasant basin, then stretches away with 
many a rise and fall between the hills, which in places 
almost meet and form a glen, or, withdrawing, leave a 
grassy hollow, as at Biechelbach, where cattle-bells 
tinkle in all the meadows. At Heiterwang, the rifle 
practice was going on even more briskly than at Leer- 
moos, some two dozen marksmen firing away, with a 
rapidity that left scarce an interval between the echoes. 
The multiplied reverberations are heard for miles round. 
By-and-by a narrow ravine with a steep declivity, the 
Ehrenberger Klause, the descent of which reminds you 
that you are indeed leaving the mountains behind. It 
was this way that Prince Maurice of Saxony once 
marched with an army, and came so unexpectedly upon 
Innsbruck as almost to succeed in making prisoner of 



ON" FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 259 

Charles V. The great emperor, though suffering from 
a fit of gout, had to escape in a litter. Presently the 
ruin of Schloss Ehrenberg, high on the left, and its 
arched gateway spanning the road — a trap formerly for 
unwary travellers. This portion of the road has been 
the scene of hard fighting in times past, and is often 
mentioned in the history of the Schmalkald war. 

Then a broad opening, with Reute, a Markt pret- 
tily situate on the Lech, at one extremity. Here I 
walked into a shower, and found that rain had been 
falling all day. On arriving at the Post I was shown 
into a large room, where fifty or more well-dressed men 
and women were sitting at a long supper-table, amid 
clouds of tobacco-smoke, while half a dozen waitresses 
ran quickly about to serve them. The sudden change 
from the fresh air into what the Germans expres- 
sively call the Gastlaft, guest-atmosphere, was by no 
means agreeable. There was opportunity for a little 
study of manners, but I had to forego it, and escape 
to an adjoining room. I waited more than an hour for 
supper, being somewhat fatigued with the four hours' 
walk from Bieberwier; but scarcely had I begun to eat, 
than a strange dizziness seized me : I staggered to the 
front-door for air — and fainted. 

It was my first experience of the kind, so that when, 
with returning consciousness, I became aware of a man's 
arms supporting me, and the mistress and her maids 
standing around offering restoratives, with expressions 
of sympathy, I was puzzled to know what had happened. 
I declined all the restoratives, even a cup of tea, in 
favour of one that has never failed me — sleep. 

S 2 



260 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

An interesting Environment — A Half-pay Officer — Talk by the Way — 
A Harvest of Legends — The White House — From Black and Yellow- 
to Blue and White — The Lech Fall — A Saint's Leap — Fussen — A 
Bavarian Dinner — Trip to Schwangau — The Alpen Rose — The Gar- 
dens — The Palace — Artistic Beauties — Armour — Paintings — Sculp- 
ture — The Knight of the Swan — Recollections of the East — The 
Hohenstaufen Hall — Lodging of the King, Queen, and Princes — View 
from the Roof — The Saiiling — The Fountains — The gorgeous Bath — 
The Refreshment-room — A Wedding Party — The Kloster — The Mi- 
raculous Staff — The Town and its Traders — Off for Kempten — Bad 
Roads — A midnight Ride — The Waiting-room — Immenstadt — A Sol- 
dier's Dressing-room — Lindau — The Lake again — Constance — View 
from the Minster Tower — Burning-place of Huss and Jerome — A 
Treacherous Emperor — Sylvan Landing-place — Down the Rhine — 
Stein — A Canary Merchant — Slow Diligence — Axle on Fire — The 
soiled Dress — Schaffhausen — The Rhine Fall. 

I WOKE the next morning as willing as ever for a 
day's walk, and with a good appetite for breakfast. 
With the guests of the night before had departed the 
four temporary waitresses, and all was now cool and 
quiet in the Post. The house is famous for good wine 
and capital trout, and is much resorted to by Bavarians 
and Suabians, while on their grand tour from Munich to 
Innsbruck and Salzburg. 

Apart from its pleasantness, Reute is well situated for 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 261 

excursions to the beautiful neighbourhood. Ammer- 
gau, with its skilful and industrious wood-carvers, is 
but a few miles distant : there are leagues of shady walks 
and sounding waterfalls in the adjacent forests: the 
Tannheimerthal and other valleys abound in romantic 
scenery; while the Saiiring, the Tauern, the Tarneller, 
and other summits among the hills around, command 
prospects of extraordinary variety and beauty. And a 
short walk will bring you to the village, Breitenwang, 
where Lothair the Saxon died, in 1137, on his return 
from Italy. Some beams of the miserable wooden hut 
in which he lodged are said to be still preserved in the 
house since built on its site. We shall see a picture of 
the event in the palace at Schwangau before the day 
is over, in which the dying monarch is represented 
surrounded by a retinue of dukes, princes, an arch- 
bishop, abbots, and other clergy. 

I was exchanging the remainder of my paper-money 
with the Kellnerinn for specie, when an elderly traveller 
came in. His gray coat turned up with green, the two 
eagle's feathers in his hat, and his brisk, confident manner 
betokened the soldier. He accosted me at once in 
English, and finding that I was going to Fiissen pro- 
posed to join company, he being bound for the same 
place, and off we started. He was a half-pay officer in 
the Bavarian service, out for his annual holiday ramble 
among the hills ; and though a sexagenarian, could still 
walk twenty miles a day, and take pleasure therein. 
He professed himself glad of an opportunity to speak 
English, for, although he had once translated some of 



262 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

Scott's novels into German, lie found there was nothing 
like talking to a native for keeping up his knowledge of 
the language. Some of his expressions sounded oddly 
enough — " Meseems we shall have a fine day" — " Scott 
was a writer of big abilities" — " Peradventure we shall 
have to show our passports :" we, however, beguiled 
the way with talk, and found the landscape delightful. 
The Lech flows along with a lively current, now on the 
right, now on the left ; and the road winds under hang- 
ing woods, or cliffs fringed with trailing weeds, or 
rocky slopes. To trace the Lech up to its source would 
be an interesting walk, leading you to the hills of the 
Bregenzerwald, from whence, if so minded, you might 
descend into the Wallgau. The scenery is similar in 
character to that we saw yesterday, but the hills are 
wider apart, for we are approaching the flat land. 

I had observed that as crucifixes became fewer and 
fewer by the wayside, beggars began to make their 
appearance ; and to-day, while passing through the 
villages of Ober and Nieder Pinzwang, we were beset 
by whining mendicants. Once over the frontier, and 
you will find their numbers multiplied. Then among 
the broad masses of firs in a valley branching off on the 
left we saw the spire of Vils — the last town of Tyrol ; 
and near it the ruins of Vilsegg, of which fearful tra- 
ditions are told. To any one master of his own time, 
and inclined to collect legends and folk-lore, here would 
be a good starting-point, and all through north and 
south Tyrol he would gather a harvest in every valley, 
some common to the whole country, others local. As 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 263 

the north is distinguished from the south by its more 
thoughtful spirit and earnest patriotism, so are its 
legends more imbued by wild and melancholy fancies, 
and a grim kind of humour. He would hear of the way 
in which the u little people " have teased and tormented 
the evil-minded peasant, and enriched the good by con- 
ducting him to stores of sparkling ore, which no one 
else could ever find : of the two lovers — one of whom 
being let down a precipice to take an eagle's nest, the 
other drew up the rope and left his rival to starve, or 
be torn to pieces by the parent birds, and perished 
miserably himself years afterwards : of the awful fate 
of a peasant who set fire to a church ; — and of this kind 
there are many, for the church is above all to be re- 
garded with reverence, seeing that in every spire you 
behold the finger of the Almighty pointing heaven- 
wards. He would hear, too, of gladsome hunting adven- 
tures : of unhappy villagers stricken to death by lightning 
while wearing an Alpine rose on their breast — hence 
the name " thunder-rose " for the flower ; and of many 
other curious superstitions. 

Presently we came to " the White-house," from which 
a fence and gates stretch all across the road to the river : 
it is the Austrian Custom-house. The sentry on duty 
said nothing to us, so we kept on. A few yards farther 
stand two of those black and yellow posts of which I 
had seen so many, and just beyond two others, painted 
light blue and white. We had passed from the Provinz 
Tirol, and the protection of the Austrian Eagle, to the 
Konigreich Bayern (Kingdom of Bavaria), with its two 



264 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

lions guarding the crown. " Now," said my companion, 
" I am in my own country. Look at the lions ! are 
they not noble animals ? And blue and white are much 
more cheerful colours than black and yellow." 

A few minutes later the castle of Fiissen, the first 
town in Bavaria, came in sight ; and here the Lech 
tumbles, roaring and whirling, through a rocky chasm, 
which, with its sharp curve and stony ledges, makes the 
impetuous stream boil again, and fling up masses of 
foam that rush from the narrow channel and fleck the 
broad reach below. You can look down upon it from 
the overhanging crags, and will, perhaps, feel it to be a 
more interesting fall than some that have been more 
praised and visited. On the summit of the eminence 
stands a cross, in commemoration of the leap that the 
good St. Magnus once took from cliff to cliff across the 
roaring gulf, to escape the violence of the heathen, 
whom he had come to convert. He must have been a 
miraculous leaper, or else the chasm is wider than in 
his day. And folk are not wanting who, on the autho- 
rity of remoter traditions, will show you the hoof-dint 
made by Julius Caesar's horse, urged to the" desperate 
spring by his Imperial rider. Now the inscription — 
Marien Felsen — on the face of the opposite cliff, 
records the Queen of Bavaria's visit to the fall. 

From this spot there is a striking view of the little 
town, lying in a hollow between two hills — the gap by 
which the Lech issues from the mountains. A real 
picture, to remain among your last recollections of 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 265 

Alpine scenery. You see the bold sweep of the river — 
the bridge — the picturesque old castle, now the residence 
of a Baron of Augsburg — the Kloster, with its circular 
towers, high-pointed gables, and ranges of deep-set, 
small windows ; these rising one behind the other, 
and backed by a broken mass of red roofs, the bell- 
turrets of two or three churches and chapels, while low 
down on the hither side stand the mill and shingled 
barns, interspersed with rows of poplars, piles of tim- 
ber, and gardens, — make a singularly pleasing scene, 
one that combines characteristics of the mountains and 
the plain. And beyond all you see the flat land, 
stretching away, one monotonous level, to the far-distant 
horizon : a sight that enhances the beauty of the nearer 
view. 

It was noon when we arrived at the Post, and found 
dinner about to be served in the room where the treaty 
of peace was signed, in 1745, between Maria Theresa 
and the Elector of Bavaria, which brought to a close 
the war of the Austrian Succession. The dinner was 
served in curious order — soup, bouiUi, fish (trout from 
the Lech), with poundcake, roast veal, salad, and 
Kirschenkuchen. The shape of the loaves indicated 
that we were no longer in Tyrol, not less than the 
flavour, in which it was a treat to miss the taste of ani- 
seed and caraways. I praised the beer, but the Trans- 
lator would not hear of anything worthy the name of 
beer being found out of Munich : to him the capital 
city was as Seville to a Spaniard. And another sign 



266 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

of having crossed trie frontier was a somewhat clearer 
articulation ; the people do not speak so much in the 
throat. 

I had now to think of returning home, and, opening 
my map, chose the route by way of Constance, Schaff- 
hausen, and the Black Forest. A Stellwagen was to 
start at eight in the evening for Kempten, on the line 
of the Augsburg and Lindau railway, so there was 
plenty of time for our projected visit to Hohen 
Schwangau. The three hours' walk from Reute had 
quite satisfied the Translator and myself, and as a two- 
horse carriage could be got to convey us the five miles 
to the castle and back for thirteenpence apiece, 
Trinkgeld included, we treated ourselves to a ride. 
Descending the slope from Fiissen, we were soon 
rolling over the plain, a short distance from the hills, 
which now advancing, now receding, now sinking to a 
gentle swell, now rising steep and bold, with the mag- 
nificent peaks of the Sauling high above all, here form 
the outer rim of the mountain-land. 

Presently we came to swampy levels, which the 
talkative driver told us were being drained by order 
of King Max. Then the riding-school, enclosures, 
graceful clumps of trees, the towers of the castle 
peeping from among thick woods on the hill-slope, an 
avenue of beeches, and we stop at the Alpen Rose, sl 
tavern situate in a pleasant defile. Broad gravelled 
walks cut here and there through the solid rock lead 
up the steep to the castle. The intermixture and 
grouping of trees, the fountains and flower-beds, pro- 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 267 

duce a fine effect. Flowers in pots were ranged on 
either side of the steps immediately beneath the en- 
trance, and my companion's lively admiration of them < 
gave me a notion of the state of floriculture in Bavaria. 
There are few country-houses in England — to say 
nothing of lordly domains, where finer flowers are not 
grown than those I saw here in the royal gardens. 

An inscription over the door tells that the lords of 
Schwangau built a fortalice here in the twelfth century, 
which the Crown Prince Maximilian caused to be re- 
edified in 1836, under the direction of Dominic Quaglio. 
No unworthy artist was he who reared and adorned so 
admirable a monument of the advanced state of Bava- 
rian art, and of the taste of the monarch, who now 
makes it his summer residence. On the wall of the 
vestibule, into which we were first^admitted, a quatrain 
greets the visitor : 

" SBiHfommen 2Banberer, &olbe $rau«t, 
S)tc ©orge gebt fca&ttt, 
ga{?f eurc ©eele ftd) fcerirauen 
S)cr Dtcfotung {mter'm ©mn." 

A few paces brought us into a hall, where the effigies 
of knights in armour stand on either side, spear or 
halbert in hand, and bows, battle-axes, maces, daggers, 
shields, and other warlike curiosities hang on the walls. 
At one end, which has stained glass windows and an 
altar in a recess, a space is railed off for a chapel. And 
over the entrances to the kitchen and cellar you may 
read appropriate legends, in which the moral sentiment 



268 ON" FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

is pervaded by a quiet touch of humour. The outer 
approach to the culinary department is indicated by 

" 33eim Srinfen un5 fceim @ffen 
©oHft 5u ©off nit ©ergeffen ." 

Then the steward, having tied large felt slippers over 
our boots, led us to the first story — the Queen's abode. 
The hall contains a collection of ancient drinking- 
vessels, of many kinds and forms, such as the mighty 
of the olden time made merry with after their battles : 
among them is a goblet that belonged to the venerable 
Willibald Pirkheimer. Adjoining is the Schwanritter- 
Saal — the Saloon of the Knight of the Swan — where 
the paintings on the walls, representing the knight's 
adventures and incidents in his life, surprise you by 
their beauty and excellence. There seemed to me 
something fairy-like in the exquisite combinations of 
colour, the scenes depicted, the quaint legends, and in 
the antique fashion and disposition of the furniture: 
and in all the recesses, in the little chambers in the 
turrets, and in the balconies, there are smaller paintings 
and decorations, all in harmony with the principal sub- 
jects. 

In the Schyren- Saal you see among the other pieces 
the triumphal feast after the battle of Ampfing, in 1322, 
when Kaiser Ludwig said : 

" Scbcm *XRann cin @i, 
£)cm frommcn ©dbftcppermann jttKt." 

And in the centre of the room an inlaid marble table, 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 269 

the arms of Bavaria in the centre, surrounded by a 
border of minor states, and beyond these a ring of stars 
and constellations, and the Twelve Apostles, and nume- 
rous inscriptions, from which you gather that the table 
was made in 1591, for Duke Wilhelm V. Next come 
Recollections of the East — views in the Levant, and 
some of the incidents of Prince Otho's journey to 
Greece, his entry as king into Athens; and the furni- 
ture of the room all in the Turkish style — a present 
from the Sultan. Another room represents the Local 
History of Schwangau and the neighbourhood around, 
of which one represent's Luther's flight from Augsburg 
in 1518. The great Reformer was sheltered here, in 
the former castle. Another shows Lothair on his 
death-bed at Breitenwang. In the Bertha- chamber 
you see King Pepin astray in the forest ; his meeting 
with Bertha ; a scene of their domestic life, and their 
festive procession with their son, Charlemagne. And 
the Ladies' -chamber contains portraits of noble and 
royal dames, in pictures of women's life in the middle 
ages, each with an appropriate legend. 

On the second story are the king's apartments : the 
Hall of Heroes; the Hohenstaufen Hall, in which Bar- 
barossa is shown, and scenes from the Crusades : the 
Tasso-chamber, with pictures from the " Jerusalem De- 
livered." In this room the screen, floor, and furniture, 
are all of cedar. Then the Heeds of Henry the Lion : 
the Autharis-chamber, in which the Lombards appear 
doing valiant things, with all the look of heroes : 
Knight-life from the Middle Ages, the Crusades again, 



270 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

joustings, falconry, combat, love passages, and a scene 
from the Niebelungen. Old German legends brought 
before the eye, embodying the charm of tradition with 
the wonder of art. Among the many inscriptions, you 
read over one of the doors : 

S)e$ SHitferS S)ienji, 5cr 2Bajfen <£W unb gkr, 
S)te ftalfenjagb auf Ickfyter £>at5e, 
S)er Stebe §reu5 unb Setb erfdbctnett Jner 
Sm garfeenglanj jur SlugenfiKt&e. 
©te ftnt> bte §23il5er etner fcpnern get* 
S)er mmncSeltgen §Bcrgangen{mt. 

More halls on the third story, and the chambers of 
the princes, and of the household ; and from thence you 
ascend a stair to the roof. The prospect is vast and 
beautiful, from the mountains of Tyrol on one side, to 
the rounded swells and broad levels of Bavaria on the 
other. There are the Alpsee and Schwansee : lakes 
embosomed in dark woods that stretch away for miles 
along the slopes and ridges of the hills. And winding 
here and there within their shadow, you see roads 
leading to the best points of view, to the Pollat water- 
fall, and sequestered glens. You see the road that 
zigzags up the precipitous side of the Sauling; and the 
steward, pointing to the cliffs past which it rises, a mere 
track, tells you it is the route taken by the king and 
his guests when they go chamois-hunting ; that the 
queen herself once rode to the summit. The quiet- 
mannered functionary cannot say enough in praise of 
Konig Max : on such excursions, the monarch's dress 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 271 

differs from that of the ordinary hunters only in his 
waistcoat being of cloth of gold. Whatever point of 
the landscape you ask a question about, he contrives to 
bring in the name of Konig Max ; forgetting, appa- 
rently, that if great things have been accomplished, the 
people's money counts for something in the result. 

The Sauling is the grand feature in the view; its 
crest of weatherbeaten crags, more than 7000 feet 
high, rises proudly among the neighbouring summits, 
the Tegelberg, Katzenberg, Hollenspitz, and others ; 
and your eye will return to it again and again, and 
you will long to scale its lofty precipices. Looking 
outwards on the plain, the contrast is great: here and 
there a patch of wood; the Bannwald See, villages and 
hamlets, indicated by church-spires, and the green ex- 
panse beyond. Turning again to the hills, you see a 
flock of swans on the lake, and chamois grazing or 
capering about in an enclosure. 

At the top of the back stair by which we descended 
the steward took off our slippers, and at the bottom 
showed us the handsomely-bound Gedenkbuch, with a 
request that we would enter our names. Then making 
courteous demonstrations in return for his zwanziger 
fee, he unlocked the door and admitted another party. 

The gardens, sheltered in places by dark brown cliffs 
hung with ivy and fern, and surrounded by groves of 
beech, ash, chestnut, and maple, have a delightful 
bowery appearance. 

We were admiring the fountains — a large, graceful 
swan spouting a trickling shower in one, Schwan- 



272 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

thaler's lions watching their shadows in the other — 
when the gardener invited us to see the bath. This is 
in a chamber hewn in the marble cliff on which the 
castle is built, and we had no sooner entered than the 
whole place was at once filled with a glowing, ruddy 
light. The man had closed the doors, which, glazed 
with red glass, full in the sunlight, produced a magical 
effect. Ourselves, the statues of nymphs on either side, 
the bath, the dark walls, seemed the subjects of en- 
chantment ; while the garden, the woods and mountains 
beyond, appeared indescribably gorgeous. Then twist- 
ing round a statue of Venus, the gardener showed us the 
secret door and private stair by which the queen de- 
scends to the bath. 

We found the open refreshment-room, opposite the 
Alpen Bose, thronged with visitors : ladies and gentle- 
men, in fashionable city costume ; soldiers, villagers with 
their children, in homely garb, and not a few peasants, 
some of the women barefoot — all come to see the castle. 
All are admitted, without distinction. A fee of twelve 
kreutzers is considered liberal, and most of the country- 
folk pay only a kreutzer apiece. The king contents 
himself with a six weeks' visit, from the middle of 
August to the end of September. 

Beer, wine, and coffee were in great request. The 
national beverage is remarkably cheap — only four 
kreutzers the Halbe. It was pleasing to see such a 
commingling of classes, all sitting down together, in 
good humour, and enjoying their holiday. 

I strolled along the brink of the lake while the 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 273 

Translator smoked his pipe, enjoying the view of the 
enclosing hills, which, reflected in the water, made it 
appear of unfathomable depth. Seen from below, the 
elevation of the castle appears too small to command 
prospects so wide as are beheld from its balconies. 

On our return to Fussen, we found a wedding- 
party regaling themselves with bread and beer. They 
had passed us in their wagon as we entered the town 
in the morning, and having been ever since occupied, 
according to custom, in visiting one public-house after 
another, were now at the last, and in a state of rather 
heavy turgidity. The practice is for the party to 
separate into couples and go drinking from house to 
house, until they all meet under one sign. They were 
about to return to the inn at which they had alighted, 
and invited us to accompany them and share in their 
frolic and dancing. The bride was accompanied by 
her mother and two sisters, their necks adorned with 
gay kerchiefs, and their two long plaited tails of hair 
bedecked with ribands. The bridegroom, with his 
large, baggy trousers, glossy velveteen coat, scarlet 
necktie, and blue silk band round his hat, looked as 
smirkingly jovial as could be expected under the cir- 
cumstances. We followed them to their quarters; but 
as they immediately sat down to another bout of eating 
and drinking, and the frolicking seemed remote, I pre- 
ferred to go and look at the old Benedictine abbey, 
certain portions of which date from the seventh cen- 
tury. It was rebuilt about a hundred and fifty years 
ago, and now contains a handsome marble altar, and 

T 



274 ON" FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

statues of the Saints Magnus, Columbanus, Gallus, and 
Scholastica. There is an ancient likeness of Charle- 
magne in the choir; the paintings on the altars are 
by Pellegrini ; and in the St. Magnus chapel are pre- 
served the staff, silver chalice, stole, and manciple that 
once belonged to the holy founder. The staff has 
sometimes been carried round the neighbouring fields 
to preserve the crops from depredations of vermin. 
The crypt, which was discovered by accident a few 
years ago, having been hidden by a floor, and the re- 
mains of a Byzantine chapel, are interesting specimens 
of the architecture of their day. 

The St. Anna chapel, restored by Baron Ponickau, 
the owner of the castle, is a very antiquated relic, in 
which you may see a few good marble monuments, a 
beautifully-carved crucifix, and a " Dance of Death," 
painted at the beginning of the seventeenth century. 

The town, although very quiet, presents the aspect of 
a little metropolis. The old gateway on the side to- 
wards Augsburg, the Franciscan Hospice, the Collector's- 
offices, salt-stores, and other public buildings, give an 
air of importance to a place which numbers under two 
thousand inhabitants. With all this, there is something 
primitive about it. The one bookseller has scarcely 
any besides school-books on his scanty shelves, but he 
will get any work you order at a week's notice. The 
apothecary requested me to call again in two hours for 
a quarter-ounce of spermaceti which I wanted. The 
smith plies his noisy trade in the principal street, while 
his half-door is beset by lounging gossips. The Para- 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 275 

solenmacher, whom I called on to put a rivet in my 
umbrella, was seated at a game of chess with one of his 
old friends, in an apartment which, though used as 
living-room and workshop, was a very model of tidy 
cleanliness. One end was occupied by his bench, tools, 
and stock-in-trade, the other by shelves filled with 
curious crockery and spoons, candlesticks and spice-box, 
all brightly polished ; and on the wall between hung a 
few small prints: the whole forming just such an in- 
terior as a Dutchman would have loved to paint. The 
little repair was soon accomplished ; and on receiving 
his charge of three kreutzers, the venerable-looking 
mender said he had once before taken money from an 
Englishman, very many years ago ; and then he sat 
down to resume his game. 

The Translator, feeling at a loss where to go next, 
resolved on accompanying me to Immenstadt. The 
handful of coins which he brought out when paying his 
bill presented a strange and shabby medley ; but, as he 
said, " whatever is silver passes in Bavaria." And he 
remarked, that the Tyrolese peasantry along the frontier, 
tired of the Austrian paper-money, sometimes wished 
to transfer their allegiance from the Eagle to the Lions. 

At eight, we started for Kempten. The road runs near 
the foot of the hills, and skirts the Weissensee — a large 
lake — keeping on the verge of the great plain. Twi- 
light soon set in ; but as the moon rose I could see that 
the houses we passed were large and barn-like, with 
scarcely any of the picturesque features common to the 
other side of the mountains. I wished for daylight, the 

T 2 



276 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

better to observe the change of style. One difference 
was painfully obvious : the roads, excellent throughout 
Austria, are the reverse of excellent on this side the 
frontier, Bavaria being as noted for bad roads as for 
beggars. We were shaken, jolted, pitched, and tossed 
with such sudden and violent jerks as if a penance of 
bruises were necessary to our discipline. Under such 
circumstances, the Translator said nothing better could 
be done than to go to sleep, and he soon began to snore. 
At times we were so near the hills as to have a steep 
climb, assisted by multiplied crackings of the whip, that 
sounded afar in the silent night, and set the dogs a- 
barking. We changed horses at Nesselwang, a small 
town at the foot of the Edelsberg ; then the gleamy 
country again, and the Kemptenerwald, a scattered 
forest, until past one, when we clattered into Kempten, 
which, judging from glimpses of broad eaves and over- 
hanging gables, has a picturesque street. On through 
the town, the driver blowing his horn, across the Iller, 
up the hill beyond to the station, indicated by a row of 
gleaming lamps. There was something surprising in 
the change from the dim, silent roads to a crowded, 
brilliantly-lighted waiting-room, and a buzz of con- 
versation. Here were a hundred or more of passengers, 
gentle and simple, the latter most numerous, with the 
usual sprinkling of soldiers, seated at the tables, some 
drinking beer or coffee, eating seedcakes, and many 
smoking, while a trim and nimble waitress tripped 
from one table to another, supplying the demands, and 
charging for the refreshments according to their real 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 277 

value, which is always moderate compared with the 
conventional one. Considering that it was but a third- 
class waiting-room, there was a highly commendable 
regard for the convenience of the passengers. 

Presently a train came up for Munich, and half the 
number departed. At half-past two the train for 
Lindau arrived, and carried off the other half. Day 
was just beginning to peep when we got to Immen- 
stadt, where I said farewell to the Translator, who 
started off at once on foot for the house of one of his 
friends a few miles distant, where he hoped to arrive to 
breakfast. We were now in a hilly, pleasant district, 
vines here and there on the slopes, all becoming more 
and more distinct as the beauty of dawn flashed into 
the glory of sunrise. Signs of life began to appear in 
the villages ; women got into the train with large baskets 
of cherries to be sold down at the port ; and farmers on 
their way to buy or sell produce, and a lively talk arose 
about prices and the weather. Both were satisfactory. 
Among the party was a stalwart soldier, who, as we 
came near Lindau, drew a small brush with a glass back 
from his pocket, with which he brushed his hair, eye- 
brows, and moustache, surveyed himself in the tiny 
mirror, treated himself to a lengthy stretch, a loud 
yawn, and a thorough shrug, and was then washed and 
dressed for the day. The train moved slowly over the 
long causeways which connect the island of Lindau 
with the mainland, and by half-past six our journey 
ended. 

At the Bayerisches Hof, opposite the flowery custom- 



278 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

house mentioned in the second chapter, I found all that 
could be desired for ablution and breakfast. Then a 
brief survey of the pleasant environs, a stroll through 
the town, noting its towers and Swiss-like architecture 
in the older parts, and then, at half-past eight, off by 
the Maximilian for Constance. Once out upon the 
lake, the overpowering heat was mitigated by a fresh- 
ening breeze. A thin haze veiled the shores and 
mountains of Switzerland, but southwards I could see 
the hills around Bregenz and the peaks of the Vorarl- 
berg, now no longer a mystery to me. Henceforth 
many scenes of that mountain-land will remain among 
my cherished recollections. I like thus to revisit a 
region after the lapse of a few weeks, when expectation 
has merged into realized enjoyment. 

The vessel sped onwards up the middle of the lake, 
past the Ueberlingen See, past high-prowed fishing- 
boats, and men hauling their nets in the narrows; and 
just before noon, while the bells were jangling from all 
the churches, we landed at the pier of Constance. Here 
I was once more on Baden territory. A man asked if 
my knapsack contained anything for duty, and did not 
ask for my passport. Another steamer was to start 
from below the bridge for Schaffhausen in about an 
hour. I ate a hasty dinner, and then, as the best way 
of employing the short interval, mounted to the top of 
the minster tower. The elevation, about one hundred 
and fifty feet, commands a fine panoramic view. The 
expanse of the lake, undistinguishable from the haze 
in the distance — the Swiss mountains shadowed out by 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 279 

denser vapours — the five territories all visible, all bright 
and beautiful to the north and east ; and immediately 
beneath the ancient city, its quiet streets, in contrast 
with signs of business in the harbour, and the move- 
ment of vessels passing the lighthouse. You see the 
Rhine running deep and swift from the lake, spanned 
by the covered wooden bridge which connects Con- 
stance with the suburb of Petershausen, and expanding 
lower down into the Zeller See, and what appears a 
series of lakes, stretching away and curving round a 
distant point. In the broadest swells up the large 
island of Reichenau, rich in fields, and pastures, and 
villages. Signs of a numerous population and good cul- 
tivation are everywhere apparent. Some - of the slopes 
are chequered with large fields of poppies, pale, blush- 
ing, and deep scarlet, which are used in the dye-works, 
while vines alternate with stripes of grain. And around 
the foot of the tower you see the antiquated roofs, dark 
red, and all the gardens and open places of the town : 
beds laid out to dry, women washing, and a few glimpses 
of domestic life. 

The old man who passes his days making shoes on 
the lofty platform will point out to you the note-worthy 
objects. The Kaufhaus (town-hall), in which Huss 
the martyr was tried, and where a few of his relics are 
preserved. There is the house where he lodged, and 
yonder the place among the gardens and orchards where 
he was burnt by the Papists : for what cause and with 
what results we all know, though it may be that other 
results are yet to be developed. Down towards Reiche- 



280 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

nau, on the brink of the river, you see the castle of 
Gottlieben, where he was imprisoned, notwithstanding 
the safe-conduct sent to him by Emperor Sigismund to 
lure him into the toils, along with his friend and dis- 
ciple Jerome of Prague, who had come to Constance to 
advise and comfort him, and exhort him to be stead- 
fast. It was in the same bright summer month — 
July 6, 1415 — that Huss was burnt ; and Jerome 
suffered a similar fate in May of the following year. 
Sigismund himself was afterwards shut up for a while 
in the same castle — an incarceration which few will 
bewail who now look down on the ancient walls. 

I was still contemplating the glowing landscape, 
where beauty of scenery is enriched by historical asso- 
ciations, when the SchafThausen steamer appeared in 
sight, coming round the distant point. After one more 
tour of the parapet I descended, and sauntered to the 
bridge, which is an interesting old structure, quite in 
accordance with the antiquated look of the town. Near 
the middle a saw-mill and flour-mill are erected, kept 
busy by the powerful stream running swiftly between 
the piers. The miller's residence looks out into the 
covered roadway, where openings left in the roof let in 
light to the flowers that adorn his little dusty windows ; 
and you see his wife knitting at the door, and his chil- 
dren playing about, and hear their merry voices min- 
gling with the busy clack and the noise of rushing 
water. A toll must be paid on all luggage that crosses 
the bridge, except such as can be carried in your hand. 

Under a spreading walnut-tree on the top of a grassy 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 281 

knoll, a short distance down the river, I found a nu- 
merous company, waiting for the steamer that came 
labouring upwards against the rapid current ; while all 
around lay knapsacks, bandboxes, bundles, carpet-bags, 
and umbrellas : a primitive and very pleasant landing- 
place; that is, in fine weather. There was a cluster of 
priests, a group of peasants, a few gentlefolk, two or 
three tourists, — whom you would have set down as Eng- 
lishmen, even without hearing them speak, — and a 
couple of lasses from the Black Forest, in habiliments as 
sombre as their country, relieved only by a red stripe 
across the breast. Their hair was tied with a broad 
black riband, which hung down behind in two streamers 
nearly to their feet. 

Ere long the vessel came to the foot of the knoll : we 
went on board, and away we sped merrily down the 
stream. Past the island; between rows of poles, among 
which numerous waterfowl congregate ; doubling the 
sharp projecting points, on each of which stands a 
village; stopping now and then to land and take up 
passengers. The water is unusually high, and on either 
side appear the traces of recent floods. Low hill-ranges 
rise in the distance, with here and there an antique 
tower, peering above rich woods or slopes of vines. 
Erom the advertisements I had concluded on voyaging 
thus pleasantly all the way to SchafThausen ; but at 
Stein we were stopped by another bridge, and the rest 
of the way was to be travelled by diligence. I climbed 
to the top of the vehicle — the tallest I ever saw — and 
got a seat among the luggage ; and presently the driver 



282 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

smacked his whip, and the six horses walked slowly off 
with us up the long ascent. Even on the level ground, 
a sturdy fellow, carrying a large, canary-cage on his 
back, kept ahead of us for a considerable distance. 
Slowness, however, has its advantages when you are 
not in a hurry to be somewhere else. We could see, 
and sometimes hear, the rapid river nearly all the way 
on our right, and well-cultivated fields and orchards 
border the road, and there are always hills in the dis- 
tance. 

With all our slowness one of the fore axles grew so 
hot and smoked so much that we had to stop for half 
an hour at Diessenhofen, while buckets of water were 
thrown on to cool it, and fresh grease was applied. 
" It was so every journey," replied the driver to a pas- 
senger who complained of the delay. And so it hap- 
pened again, in less than an hour : the wheel creaked, 
the axle smoked, and we drew up at a smithy. A couple 
of pine joists were fetched to prize up the diligence 
while the wheel was taken off, and tubs of water were 
brought from a neighbouring fountain to repeat the 
cooling. Another half-hour's delay. Some of the 
passengers grew impatient, and went off on foot. We 
were ready to start, when one of the ladies discovered 
that her alpaca dress was soiled by the superabundant 
grease from the wheel, and refused to proceed until it 
was cleansed. In vain the driver protested ; she 
silenced him with her German volubility, and borrow- 
ing a piece of soap from one of the tourists, she dipped 
her skirt into the trough of the fountain, and rubbed 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 283 

and wrung over and over again, until the stains dis- 
appeared. The other passengers meanwhile had oppor- 
tunity to discover what they possessed of patience ; and 
the driver, who ventured now and then to hint that he 
was about to start, was at once reduced to meekness by 
a short, quick volley from the lady's indignant tongue. 
It was seven in the evening when we arrived at Schaff- 
hausen — twenty-nine miles from Constance. 

I sauntered through the town, which, for quaint and 
picturesque architecture, is as remarkable, perhaps, as 
any in Switzerland. The old gateways and halls of 
the guilds are especially note- worthy. Then I walked 
three miles farther to the famous fall, where the Rhine 
breaks through the Jura mountains. The furious 
rapids seen here and there on the way, ridgy masses of 
foam in beautiful contrast with the dark-green water, 
show with what speed the river rushes to its headlong 
plunge. The fall is in full view from the road, and 
after viewing it from all the lower points, I mounted 
the slope to Weber* s Hotel, and saw it under another 
aspect. A sudden thunderstorm broke, giving a touch 
of sublimity to the twilight, and dispersing the multi- 
tude of elegant visitors assembled on the terrace. Roar 
answered roar ; and as the lightning flashed, fitful gleams 
shot across the frothy waves. 

Deep and solemn sounded the voice of the fall after I 
lay down. In that there was no disappointment. 



284 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

A gloomy Morning — Swiss Agriculture — A Protestant Church — From 
the Canton to the Duchy — The Earthquake — Stuhlingen — Grand-Ducal 
Eilwagen — Name again transmuted — The Ticket — The Black Forest 
— A shivering Hanoverian — Mist and Rain — Bonndorf — A Wet Fair- 
day — Embroidered Head-dress — Migratory Foresters — Clockmakers — 
Forest Scenes — Lenzkirch — A Talk in the Post-house — A "Walk 
through the Forest — Miles of Firs — Titi See — Hollensteig — Hollenthal 
—Magnificent Defile — Moreau's Retreat— Stone-breakers — The Brook 
— The Vosges — Freiburg — The Minster and Schlossberg — The Prefect's 
Notice— To Carlsruhe— The Palace— The Gardens— The Market— A 
lazy Functionary — "Waiting for an Autograph — Appenweier — Kehl — 
Strasburg — The Cathedral — View from the Tower — A Lesson in the 
Air — About the City — Mixture of French and German : Ancient and 
Modern — Moonlight and Music — Liitzelbourg — Nancy — Paris — Re- 
cross the Channel. 

The next morning was the only one of all my holiday 
that opened without sunshine. With no brilliant rays 
to light up the foam, the fall appeared to less advantage 
than on the evening "before. Emerson says that we 
may as well stay at home as travel, for we never see 
anything greater than our thought. This is true, in 
my case, of waterfalls, — never of mountains ; except that 
there is something imposing in the sight of a mighty 
torrent. I did not find half the pleasure in SchafT- 
hausen that I had felt when gazing on some of the 



ON FOOT THEOUGH TYROL. 285 

comparatively insignificant falls in the valleys of Tyrol. 
After another survey from different points of view, I 
started to walk through the Black Forest to Freiburg. 
The road, which a few miles on sends off a broad 
highway to Basel, runs through a rolling country, the 
higher slopes covered with wood, and below broad 
fields of hemp, rye, wheat, and potatoes. The maize- 
growing region is left behind. Vines are abundant, 
and pear and apple orchards. The villages have more 
of the German than the Swiss aspect, and most of the 
houses have a dung-heap at the door. Here and there 
a rude weather-worn painting appears between the 
windows ; on one front an inscription runs : 

Standeth house in God's name, 
Safe it is from harm and flame. 

And every house has its stack of firewood, in some 
cases a large pile of roots ; but there is a look of extreme 
poverty about the inhabitants. Nowhere had I yet 
seen such an appearance of being ground down by hard 
work and hard fare. * Although one might sympathize 
with their poverty, there seemed something repulsive 
in the sight of very ugly women and girls carrying 
tubs of liquid manure on their heads. Whatever beauty 
they had is all expended on the fields, and appears in 
the teeming crops. No need to ask whether you are in 
a Protestant region, the neglected aspect of the little 
church at Siblingen will tell you that. If the religious 
sentiment of its frequenters be equally dilapidated, so 
much the worse for them. Nowhere do you see the 



286 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL, 

name of the village written up ; which will, perhaps, 
make you wish that the Austrian practice prevailed, of 
indicating it on a post at either end of the village. The 
landlord of a Wtrthshaus, where I halted for a few 
minutes out of a shower, told me he had to pay sixty- 
three francs a year for his license, five francs u military 
money," and an income-tax besides. A few miles 
farther you cross the Wuttach, and pass from Canton 
Schaffhausen to the Grossherzogthum Baden — from 
Protestant to Catholic, and without perceiving any 
marked change in the landscape or the people. If 
there be any difference, it is in favour of the Catholic 
side. From a day's experience of francs and centimes, 
you now come once more to the use of German money. 
The guard, who sat in his lodge near the bridge, did 
not even look at me as I passed ; and on Baden ground, 
there was no more hindrance than we find in walking 
about England. 

The showers grew into steady rain ; the day, indeed, 
was remarkably gloomy, and just about the time I 
crossed the frontier, the earthquake shock occurred 
which ran through Europe from Italy to Prussia, and 
worked great mischief in some parts of Switzerland. It 
traversed the district across which my walk lay, but I 
felt nothing of it. 

Coming presently to Stiihlingen, I waited for a con- 
veyance, hoping to escape such very demonstrative 
weather in the course of a stage or two. I took a place 
for Lenzkirch in the Grossherzoglichen Eilwagen — how 
grand that sounds ! — and the Kellner spelt my name 



ON" FOOT THROUGH TYEOL. 287 

Pfait on the Reise-Schein (journey- ticket). This taking 
of a place is a very formal affair when compared with 
the mode of proceeding on our side of the Channel. 
The ticket, to begin with, is as large as a leaf of Black- 
ivoods Magazine; it bears its name on a scroll at the 
top, and under this is the number, and a vignette re- 
presenting an Eilwagen at full speed, a dog barking on 
the top, and a church-spire in the distance. Next comes 
the passenger's name, and that of the place he is jour- 
neying to ; the amount of his fare ; the three kreutzers 
for booking; the particulars of his "overweight" luggage, 
if he have any; then the date and hour of departure, 
and at the bottom a line in large capitals, Grossher- 
zoglich Badische Postwagen-Expedition. But 
this is not all ; turning over, you find the back covered 
by a series of fourteen Bemerkungen — observations — 
closely printed, in small type, giving all the informa- 
tion you can possibly want ; forbidding fees to driver or 
conductor, the conveyance of infirm people, children 
under three years, and dogs — and smoking, unless by 
permission of the passengers. So if the document be for- 
mal, it ensures your travelling in comfort, which is more 
than can be said of travelling by railway in England, 
where you are continually annoyed by selfish people, 
who will smoke whether or no. Why should not every 
train have its " smoking carriage" for those who must 
fumigate the atmosphere, as on the Continent ? 

The Eilwagen came punctual to its hour — three 
o'clock; and soon after leaving Stiihlingen, we began to 
mount the steep hills of the Black Forest. For fellow- 



288 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

traveller, I had a Hanoverian, who had got wet through 
in walking from SchafThausen, and was a melancholy 
specimen of those tourists who undertake a journey in 
light clothing. He had on nothing thicker than nan- 
keen, and shivered as if in the midst of winter, and was 
thoroughly miserable. I recommended him to follow 
my example in his future excursions, and wear light 
woollen garments, and carry an overcoat. 

Thick mists hung on the hill-tops, so that we could 
see only a small dripping circle that seemed to be 
moving with us. At times there was a break, and we 
got peeps into wild patches of wood, up little by-roads, 
or across clearings, where patches of rye swayed in the 
sullen wind, and heaps of roots that stretched out long 
withered arms ; then the mists rolled in again, and all was 
hidden. Here and there dark clumps of firs deepened 
the gloom, and filled the air with a solemn roar. It 
was a disappointment to pass over the hill from which 
the Alps and the Lake of Constance are visible, and 
have to forego the view. Still, there was something to 
compensate in the mysterious glimpses of the landscape 
around. 

At Bonndorf, a large modern village, built on the site 
of one that was burnt down in 1827, they were holding 
the annual fair (Jahrmarkt), a truly melancholy spec- 
tacle, which we had time to contemplate while changing 
horses. Everything and everybody seemed dull, damp, 
and miserable. There were stalls spread with cutlery, 
jewelry, boots and shoes, cottons, ribands, and kerchiefs, 
and as. many more entirely empty ; for the rain fell 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 289 

a downright pour. Great was the concourse of peasantry 
from miles around; husbands, wives, and children, all 
in holiday costume, and wandering about, sadly, under 
large blue and red umbrellas. No one smiled ; no sound 
of merriment was heard, nothing but a confused mur- 
mur of voices, and the heavy, incessant patter of the 
rain. The disappointed looks of the women and chil- 
dren made me feel sorry that the holiday, looked for^ 
ward to for months, should have turned out so unlucky. 

Three passengers got in here : a good-humoured glass- 
merchant, with his wife and father. After a few re* 
marks concerning the weather, costume was talked about; 
and he made his wife lean forwards, that we might see 
the horseshoe at the back of her hood, tastefully em- 
broidered by her own hand, and how the black streamers 
were fastened on, and all kept in place, by the orna- 
mental comb. He seemed as proud of her skill as of 
her good looks, which would have appeared to more 
advantage without the broad black riband worn round 
the head, passing under the chin. One might fancy 
the women to be hospital patients with mourning 
bandages. 

Then the worthy trader told us of his wanderings. 
He had travelled for years in Switzerland and Italy to 
sell his wares, and now had a shop at Zurich, as well 
as a home in Lenzkirch. All the foresters migrate, 
trudging hither and thither as pedlars, or settling down 
in favourable places as clockmakers; their one thought 
being to return home with money in their pockets. 
Hence, in the villages along the high-road, many per- 
il 



290 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

sons are found able to speak two or three languages, 
and some foreign words are in common use. It was 
with French verbs and adjectives that our driver 
coaxed or threatened his horses. And so clockmaking 
flourishes in the Forest, employing hundreds of vil- 
lagers, and a lively export trade is carried on with all 
parts of the world: not merely of common cheap 
clocks, for some are made worth a thousand florins. 

Meanwhile the road had risen to a higher elevation. 
The rain' gradually ceased, the horizon widened, and we 
could see the hills for miles around, all dark with firs — 
a very Black Forest. And here and there the white 
mists came boiling up out of the deep glens, in strange 
contrast with the sombre background. All the little 
streams we crossed were running away to the Rhine ; 
and we could see a ridge about two hours distant on 
the right, from whence the brooks flow into the Danube. 
At times we passed a lonely house, one of the large 
edifices which comprise barn, stable, and dwelling 
under one roof, and exhibit the architectural pecu- 
liarities of the regions — picturesque and rustic, quite in 
keeping with the environment. Wherever a new 
house has been built, the red-tiled roof seems almost to 
gleam against the firs, and far-distant gables catch your 
eye, which, but for the colour, would escape notice. 
The tiles are an innovation required by law, in con- 
sequence of the disastrous fires that so often occurred 
among the shingled roofs. Any one rebuilding a 
house and roofing it with shingles, incurred a penalty; 
but the folk evaded the law by leaving one or two of 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 291 

the old beams standing, whereby the renewal became a 
" repairing " only, and wood could be used with im- 
punity. So numerous were the evasions, and so great 
the difficulty of getting tiles in some places, that, as I 
read in a newspaper the same evening, the government 
at Carlsruhe had, except as regards villages, repealed 
the law. 

At seven o'clock we came to Lenzkirch, an import- 
ant village, the head-quarters of clockmakers. It strag- 
gles for a mile or more along a pleasant valley, the 
gardens on one side meeting the meadows, that stretch, 
down to a lively brook ; on the other chequering the 
slopes, where huckleberries and wild strawberries grow 
thickly among the firs. Piles of shingles and stacks of 
firewood— pine and beech — are scattered in plenty 
among the houses, and the whole place has a well-to-do 
aspect, cheerfully rural. It maintains three breweries. 

The Hanoverian would not be persuaded to tarry, 
and went on a stage farther. I alighted at the Post, 
a house of unpretending appearance, but thoroughly 
capable in matters of good entertainment. Excellent 
trout and mutton-cutlets were set before me for supper; 
and among the appointments of the table was a salt- 
spoon, the only one I saw in all my ramble. At one 
end of the dining-room hung a row of clocks, ticking 
away merrily : an audible advertisement to guests that 
they are for sale. The host combines clockmaking 
with his public vocation ; and many a traveller, charmed 
by simple manners and good fare, burdens himself with 
a clock, which he could have bought cheaper at home ; 
u2 



292 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

for, as I heard later in the evening, " the old Wirth 
does not care to sell cheap." You will find a good 
supply of German newspapers on a table in the window 
recess, in which you will see that daily means every 
day, without regard to Sunday; seven papers being 
issued in the week. 

When candles were lighted, I joined a party at one 
of the tables in the common room, who were treating 
themselves to their usual nightly gossip, and glasses of 
beer and wine. The clock-trade, as affected by the war, 
was the chief subject of conversation, mingled, curiously 
enough, with commendations of Lord John Russell. 
His Lordship had found favour with these honest clock- 
makers, because of his measures for extending the 
suffrage. Presently, a jolly-looking fellow asked me 
in English, if I knew Goswell-street. There seemed 
something so incongruous in such a question in the 
heart of the Black Forest, that I could not forbear 
laughing, and the more so as Mrs. Bardell, Pickwick, 
and the others, came crowding into my mind as asso- 
ciated with that delectable thoroughfare; in which, as 
it appeared, the inquirer had lived for eleven years. 
He told me that the wealthy people in Lenzkirch could 
do pretty much as they pleased on Sunday, but that 
poor folk who ventured to follow their example were 
called to account. Our talk came soon to an end, for 
by half-past nine every soul had departed. 

The next day was as bright and breezy as heart could 
wish. I was early afoot, mounting the long acclivity 
by which the road leaves the village. Bright green is 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 293 

the favourite colour for the shutters, and bright blue for 
the wagons. There is a showy altar in the little church 
on the left ; but none of those profuse decorations 
which you see so common in Tyrol. A copper basin, 
hanging at the end of a long iron hook, contains the 
holy-water. But what the church lacks in splendour, 
you find in the churchyard, where dazzling crosses of 
blue and gold rise thickly from the graves. ' 

The view in the rear is so pretty that you will stop 
more than once on the ascent to look back on it: little 
fields, and brooks, and mills, and bits of the village; 
broken, grassy undulations, all set with dark irregular 
borders of firs. Here and there appears the brighter 
foliage of orchards, and you pass long lines of cherry- 
trees, which ripen their small, delicious fruit in August ; 
and if you enjoy a feast of wild berries as I do, you 
may gather them by pecks on the slopes where trees 
grow fewest. Wider views are seen from the high- 
ground, such as will make you wish for a few weeks' 
exploration of the by-ways of the Black Forest. At 
times you pass under the solemn shade of magnificent 
firs, that for acres around rise aloft in untamed vigour. 
One of our poets talks of a " thunder-harp of pines," 
and here Nature enables you to test the expression. 
Or you may remember what another describes : how 
the. Wind, after his birth, went from tree to tree across 
the land, and 

" Lastly the pine 
Did he solicit ; and from her he drew 
A voice so constant, soft, and lowly deep, 
That there he rested, welcoming in her 
A mild memorial of the ocean-cave 
Where he was born." 



294 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

Then a long steep descent, from which you see yellow 
patches of ripening grain, long green glades, slender 
church spires, and white houses, nestling amid the 
graceful clumps of birch and beech. You descend into 
a valley, where a broad lake — the Titi See — stretches 
away between black and green slopes on the left; and 
there is a sound of music in the whisk of the scythe 
through the damp grass of the meadows. This being 
a first crop, gives us an indication of the nature of the 
climate. Now you are in the region known as Himmel- 
reich — kingdom of Heaven, because it is approached 
in the other direction from' the celestial antipodes by 
the Hollensteig. By-and-by you come to the edge of 
the precipitous Steep, and may look down into the 
valley of the awful name beneath — Hollenthal. It is a 
narrow gulf, shut in by wild and almost perpendicular 
slopes of rocks and firs, and you see great waves of the 
tree-tops rolling onwards for miles. The road descends 
by sharp zigzags, all of which you may avoid by a very 
abrupt cut-off through the wood. Once down, the road 
falls rapidly into a defile, where cliflj crag, and foliage 
combine to delight the eye with romantic scenery. The 
effects of light and shade produced by the furrows in 
the massy slopes of green, where you overlook the tree- 
tops, are enchanting. In places there is but scant room 
for the road, and the sociable little brook that sparkles 
along at your side. Now you are in a deep oval basin, 
in the full glare of the sun, with no apparent outlet. 
A few yards farther, and you are in a tortuous gorge, 
in deep cool gloom, where the brook looks green, and 



• ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 295 

damp mosses hang from the crevices of the rocks. 
Then a wider basin, and grimy charcoal-burners, busy 
with their conical heaps; a noisy saw-mill; men load- 
ing wagons from huge piles of planks that betoken 
an inexhaustible supply; wagoners halting with their 
teams at the tavern ; a few cottages, and women at 
work in steep gardens and steeper rye-fields, — little 
-patches between little cherry orchards. A few yards 
more, and the valley narrows again, and branch valleys 
shoot off, approached by rustic bridges, and you can 
see the rough track curving away under the trees until 
its brown ruts, and the lively rill that attends it, dis- 
appear in the maze of greenery. And so for miles, one 
beautiful scene after another, all down the valley. 

It was through this Hollenthal that Moreau made 
the retreat, by which he won more fame than some 
other captains have gained by a victory. He brought 
his army of 25,000 men safely through the zigzag way, 
Austrians, Bavarians, and hostile peasants notwith- 
standing; re-crossed the Rhine, and kept possession of 
two strong positions on the German bank. 

The ugly yellow chip-hats worn here by some of the 
women complete the neutralising effect on good looks 
of the black bandage afore-mentioned. The horseshoed 
hood with the streamers is, however, the prevailing 
head-dress ; and for the rest, a short blue petticoat, short 
white sleeves, and black or gray stockings. You will 
see many specimens, for the road-menders of both sexes 
and all ages are numerous. One party of half a dozen 
women had lit a fire to warm their meagre soup — a 



296 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. * 

decoction of cabbage — and sat drinking it from little 
crocks, or dipping their hard black bread into the kettle. 
They earn twenty kreutzers a day at stone-breaking 
when the stone is tender ; but if it be hard, as often 
happens, then only fifteen kreutzers. They use a heavy, 
short-handled hammer, in one hand only; and nearly 
all complained of aching wrists, that prevented their 
working at home in the evenings. The men earn from 
twenty-four to thirty kreutzers a day. One, whom I 
asked why he did not work with a two-handed hammer, 
answered, " Because he could not use it quick enough." 
In winter there is no stone-breaking, and then they have 
to seek for work as woodcutters. In dress and capa- 
bility they did not appear to be anything like equal to 
the poor fellows who break stones on English roads. 

Deeper and deeper plunges the road between the 
hills. I met the Eilwagen from Freiburg, laden with 
English tourists ; then four or five carriages, all crammed, 
and with English faces looking from the windows. The 
clock-making Wirth at Lenzkirch must have rubbed 
his hands at sight of such a goodly company. I made 
my noontide halt in one of the lonely hollows, seated 
on a mossy stone by the brook-side, under the shade of 
beech and hazel, through which a thousand flickering 
lights fell on the water. Here the streams are not 
turbid, as among the mighty mountains. How the 
brook babbles, as it were, in very fulness of joy ! — tell- 
ing secrets of the hills, of its struggles in darksome 
chasms of the rocks ; the sunlight drawing forth the 
burden that remained silent in sullen pools, and amid 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 297 

the gloom of the forest. How it throws itself against 
the smooth boulders that stud its bed, now encircling 
them with a ring of foam, now leaping up in mimic 
waves, now dashing right over with noisy splash; and 
where two of the gleaming stones lie near together, it 
makes a mill-race between them, and whirls with delight, 
as fir-cones, twigs, and leaves, or bits of grass, shoot 
swiftly through. It plays with the waifs for a while, 
then, letting them go, runs quickly after, to have a 
similar frolic a little lower down. ' There is coolness in 
the very sound. The hot sun may glow as he will, he 
cannot scorch me here. How his ray brightens the 
clear pale shallows, and the sparkle of the ripples, and 
the spray of the whirlpools ! And yonder, where the 
lively current flows away into a deeper shade, and 
sweeps round the base of a cliff, he makes a green 
glimmer through the leafy canopy. 

Who that has walked by the side of a brook has not 
felt it grow into a companion, — one to be communed 
with ? Many thoughts come into the mind as you sit 
listening to its voice ; and an earnest wish that those 
you love best could share your enjoyment. You may 
go away the wiser for the communings, remembering 
that others will follow, and haply sit musing in the same 
spot, when your name shall have been long forgotten. 

By-and-by the valley widens; the firs give place to 
beech, maple, and walnut, and broad fields and meadows 
spread between the hills. The brook, growing to a 
river, is made to turn two or three spinneries. Far in 
the distance you see the pale blue mountainous outline 



298 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

of the Vosges, and the minster-spire of Freiburg comes 
in sight. Near where the road begins to be bordered 
with trees, I saw rifle-shooting going on from a stand, 
as briskly as at Leermoos. I reached the town at two. 
There was time for a visit to the minster — an edifice 
dating from the twelfth century, remarkable chiefly for 
its tower, and stained-glass windows. In these the 
colours are wonderful specimens of art, throwing down 
gorgeous gleams on the pavement. There is a good 
view from the top of the tower; or you may walk to 
the Schlossberg beyond the Schwaben Gate, and from 
thence gaze over the prospect : the valley of the Drey- 
sam, the richly-wooded hills, the town at your feet; 
a panorama bounded at one extremity by the dark 
summits of the Black Forest, at the other by the moun- 
tains of France. A glorious farewell view ! Truly, my 
last day's walk was delightful. 

I now wished to visit Strasburg, and return home 
by way of France. At the railway-station I fell in 
with the Hanoverian, who was going on to Baden- 
Baden. Loudly did he regret not having waited to 
walk with me the whole distance from Lenzkirch. He 
had passed the best parts of the scenery in the dark. I 
was about to take a ticket for Kehl, when I saw on the 
wall a notice, published by the Prefect of the Bas-Rhin, 
to the effect that no foreigner would be permitted to 
enter France at Strasburg, unless his passport were 
signed by the French authority accredited to Baden. 
The signature could only be obtained at Carlsruhe; so 
to Carlsruhe I went, by a train that did not arrive till 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 299 

near midnight, having been more than six hours tra- 
velling the eighty-three miles. 

I betook myself before nine on the following morn- 
ing to the residence of the u accredited authority." It 
is quite at the extremity of the town, as far as possible 
from the station ; looks into a small, pleasant deer park, 
and has an unpleasant open gutter of dirty water run- 
ning through the court-yard and entrance-hall. The 
hour was too early for the Imperial functionary, who 
does not begin work till eleven, so I took a survey of 
the town, which, though somewhat monotonous, is 
more cheerful than appears at a distance. The streets 
are wide and well paved, and the shops and public 
buildings are such as befit the seat of government. The 
palace looks imposing, fronted by spacious, well-planted 
grounds, rows of orange-trees, Schwanthaler's statue of 
the late Grand Duke; and to the right and left, rows of 
stately arcaded houses. At one side stands an elegant 
theatre, near which is the entrance to the Botanic Gar- 
dens, where you may freely roam and contemplate the 
tasteful arrangements. Among the plants are many rare 
specimens from the East ; but some of the beds looked 
neglected and weedy. The extent and attractions of the 
garden were being increased by the addition of a large 
piece of ground, and the erection of a crescent-shaped 
pavilion, which, with its slender columns, rows of arches, 
light towers, and finials, forms a graceful specimen of 
architecture. The interior walls are faced with a mosaic 
of pebbles ; and what with fountains and rockwork, 
the place will become a delightful winter-garden for 



300 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

the resort of the inhabitants. There are pleasant woods 
behind the palace, and a pheasantry, to which admission 
is given by authority. 

It was market-day, and the throng in the market- 
place presented an animated scene. Ranks of peasant . 
women, each with her head bound in a red or blue ker- 
chief, kneeling or squatting on the pavement, behind 
her basket of wares. Peaches, apricots, cherries, let- 
tuces, and so forth, as at Innsbruck, a great number of 
small quantities. There were stalls of coarse rye-bread, 
loaves twenty inches in diameter; of second-hand 
clothes, printed cottons, and house utensils. There 
was a tempting display of tripe and sausages; and I 
observed that the butchers' customers bought very 
small portions of meat : nothing like a joint was 
weighed or sold. Numbers of women, in elegant 
morning-dress, arrived and departed continually, carry- 
ing home the purchases in their baskets. Soldiers 
strolled about, and a troop eight hundred strong 
marched through the central thoroughfare to the 
music of the band on their return from parade. 

At eleven I went back to the Embassy. But though 
the official hour had struck, the minister, or rather the 
minister's deputy, did not make his appearance. The 
six or seven travellers, waiting impatiently for auto- 
graphs, were not slow to murmur. The valet ran off, 
his long hair streaming in the wind, to find his master, 
and presently came running back with the news that 
he was out at breakfast, and couldn't come. More 
murmurs ; the train by which I and the others wished 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 301 

to depart was to arrive before noon. The valet be- 
thought himself, and having stamped our passports, 
scampered off again with all the precious documents in 
his hand, and ere long returned, breathless, with the 
signatures, for which we had each to pay five francs. 
Such a fee ought at least to secure one from vexatious 
delay, and the Minister of Foreign Affairs, at Paris, 
would do good service by inspiring the u accredits " at 
Carlsruhe with a better sense of his duty. 

Then back to Appenweier, from whence the branch- 
line turns off for Kehl. Here was a general dispersion, 
a confusion of tongues, and a scramble for the omni- 
buses, of which a dozen or more were in waiting. I got 
into one bound for Strasburg. It started forthwith, 
but soon stopped at the Baden Police and Customs 
Bureau, where a soldier looked at our passports. One 
young man, who said he had lost his, was detained 
prisoner, notwithstanding his tearful, appealing look. 
We crossed the long bridge ; the stream running fu- 
riously beneath, and among the islets; passed the De- 
saix monument on the larger island, then the little 
Rhine, and there was the French Custom-house. An- 
other stop, while our passports underwent what seemed 
a careless examination by an officer in civil uniform. 
I asked him whether, lacking the Carlsruhe visa, I 
should have been turned back. " Mais, Monsieur" he 
replied, "if you are only crossing on your way to 
England, you would have been let to pass all the 
same." 

A few yards farther, and we were driven into the 



302 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

great Custom-house shed, for a search of the baggage ; 
and this over, proceeded without further hindrance 
along a road bordered by trees, and gardens and 
meadows beyond. Two or three miles more, then a 
citadel on the right; the "polygon" on the left; 
the gate of Austerlitz, and we entered the ancient 
capital of Alsace, a city of abounding interest. It 
carries your thought back to the olden time — to Clovis 
and Charlemagne, Rudolf of Hapsburg, Gutemberg; 
and to Oberlin and other celebrities of later days. 
You are still surrounded by German architecture and 
costume, and hear the German speech, but all curiously 
intermingled with French. Having secured quarters 
at the Hotel de la Fleur, I lost no time in seeing all 
that could be seen before sunset, regretting much that 
mj unnecessary trip to Carlsruhe prevented my having 
a whole day in Strasburg. Simple that I was, to heed 
the Prefect's notification hung up in the station at 
Freiburg ! 

After a saunter through the cathedral, and a sight of 
the great clock which keeps so many complicated reckon- 
ings, and employs the Apostles to mark the quarters 
and a Death to strike the hour, I mounted the three 
hundred and thirty-one steps to the platform at the top 
of the tower. The door stands always open. You pay 
three sous for a ticket, at an office just above the en- 
trance : the only fee, so says the Mayor by public 
advertisement, that you are required to pay. The long- 
stair leads to a passage through the house, inhabited by 
the warders, two of whom are on watch all day, and 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 303 

four at night. Their fire-signals are a red flag, and a 
brazier of burning coal. The height is two hundred 
and forty-one feet ; and if not satisfied with the 
elevation, you may ascend another stair inside the 
spire, which springs aloft, a tapering column of fret- 
work. The platform, paved with stone, is spacious 
enough to allow of the warders having a good game at 
leap-frog when they incline for exercise in cold weather. 
There are images of saints to be seen, and among them 
the statue of the founder of the cathedral; the clock 
and bells ; and on one of the slabs a record of the earth- 
quake shock of 1728, which made the water of the 
reservoirs leap six feet upwards. But chief is the 
prospect all around! The city appears surprisingly 
small ; it has height, not breadth. An English town 
of seventy-six thousand inhabitants would fill double 
the space, and you would see its suburbs blending 
gradually with the country; but here the termination 
is abrupt. No houses scattered among pleasant gar- 
dens, straggling out in all directions : the fields begin 
close to the walls, and the rural and the urban meet in 
what seems unnatural contrast. 

What a maze is that which strikes your eye from 
below! Numberless serrated lines, long and short, 
straight and irregular, curiously interwoven, formed by 
the antique gables. Broad slopes of roof that appear 
honeycombed with many small dormer windows. 
Quaint bits of architecture here and there — the church 
towers, and military defences. And all the busy and 
novel life of the streets, and in the open places, where 



304 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

very little men, women, and soldiers are walking up 
and down under the trees; and red and blue manikins 
everywhere, moving about in twos and threes, or in 
short lines that resemble caterpillars. And here and 
there you see a shining stripe of the 111 flowing lan- 
guidly between the houses. 

And the prospect around ! Far and wide over the 
cheerful land of Alsace ; a mountainous horizon to- 
wards the north ; the valley of the Rhine ; and you 
have a last glimpse of the river, and the dark, myste- 
rious looking region of the Black Forest. Though cha- 
racterized more by vastness than beauty, you will linger 
long to gaze upon it. 

I was pacing slowly round within the parapet, when 
one of the warders came up and offered to give me 
" des informations" It soon appeared, however, that 
he was more in want of information than I ; for, finding 
that I could make myself understood, he immediately 
begged for a lesson in English. There was a string of 
phrases which he had long been trying to pronounce 
for the information of my compatriots who might 
ascend to his airy abode; but although they seemed 
very good English when he recited them to himself, he 
was always ashamed of them in public. Some visitors 
did not scruple to laugh outright, which mortified his 
feelings ; and to hear a party of English speaking 
together put him in despair, so unlike was what they 
said to what he thought they ought to say. I acceded 
to his request, and he proceeded to recite: "A woman 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 305 

zrew herself down here — zat is ze rivare — zere is ze 
arsenal," and such like, making sad work of the th. I 
showed him that he might overcome the difficulty by 
putting his tongue a little out of his mouth, and press- 
ing it against his upper teeth. He made the attempt at 
once, and broke out into exclamations of delight at his 
success. Making a very long tongue, he kept on re- 
peating th-ere — th-at — th-rew ; occasionally relapsing 
into the z 9 and interrupting his practice by triumphant 
ejaculations. " Out of the mouth ! Mais, cest merveil- 
leux, tout le meme /" Then, how should he address his 
visitors ? When was he to say Milor f What did that 
mean? Was not every Englishman a Sir? (or Sare, as 
he pronounced it), and what did that mean ? I advised 
him to suppress Milor altogether, and keep his Sare 
in reserve until he was asked for it. He next intro- 
duced me to the apartment where the visitors' book lay, 
in which I saw the name of Admiral Moresby, recently 
entered. " Comment /" exclaimed my pupil, " we have 
had an English admiral up here to-day, and I did not 
know it." Whereupon I suggested that after such a 
want of discernment he need never flatter himself with 
the hope of discovering a Milor, and disappeared down 
the stairs before he had shaped his reply. 

The statue of Gutemberg stands in the open space of 
the Marche aux Herbes, in front of the ancient Hotel 
de Ville, now the Hall of Commerce. The immortal 
printer is represented holding in one hand a scroll, on 
which appear the words, And the light was! and in 

x 



306 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

the four bas-relief panels of the pedestal you see the 
introduction of printing into the four several quarters 
of the globe. A little farther, along a narrow street, 
and there is the Protestant Church of St. Thomas, 
famous for its monumental tomb of Marshal Saxe. The 
hero, cut in marble, is seen descending with undaunted 
look and firm step into the grave, and surrounded by 
emblematical figures, forms an impressive object. Per- 
haps from want of taste, or knowledge, I could not help 
thinking the tomb as much over-praised as most water- 
falls are. There are monuments to other celebrities 
around the walls, on one of which you will read the 
name of Oberliii, date 1806; and you may see two 
mummies — a Count of Nassau and his daughter — and a 
stone coffin that was once filled by the corpse of Bishop 
Adeloch. 

In the great square, or Place d'Armes, stands the 
statue of Kleber. The attitude is defiant; the great 
general being represented at the moment of replying to 
Admiral Keith's summons to surrender by the appeal 
to his troops — " Such demands are answered only by 
victories. Prepare for battle !" In one of the bas-reliefs 
below is shown the battle of Altenkirchen, in the other 
the battle of Heliopolis. 

The more I saw of Strasburg the more did I regret 
not having had at least the whole day for a perambula- 
tion of its streets. There are many precious and curious 
objects to be seen in the libraries and museums: you 
may find out the place where Gutemberg first set up 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 307 

bis press, and the ancient University where Goethe, 
Stilling, and Herder were once students. And the 
streets themselves, with their every-day life, are in- 
teresting. You will not soon weary of strolling along 
the arcades, noting the queer projecting windows, the 
antiquated shops, the numerous towers, all associated 
with signs of active business. Here and there one of 
the very old timbered, or wooden houses, such as you 
saw in the villages, remains standing; but the pic- 
turesque is disappearing to make way for modern im- 
provements, and in a few years the aspect of the city 
will have changed from German to French. At present, 
the German predominates both to eye and ear. 

1 finished the evening at a cafe, looking out on the 
pleasant promenade of the Place Broglie. French and 
German newspapers lay on the tables. The Courrier du 
Bas Rhin divides itself equally between the two lan- 
guages, and bears as its other heading, Niederrheinischer 
Kurier. Some of the guests drank small bowls of punch, 
and not one took coffee without a considerable admix- 
ture of cognac, the Alsatian temperament being appa- 
rently of a nature to which eau sucree is not a sufficient 
stimulus. And on my way back to the hotel I saw 
groups of working-people eating suppers of pies or sau- 
sages under the arcades ; and of all the numerous 
breweries not one but appeared to be thronged with 
guests. 

So brightly did the moon look down on the ancient 
city that I turned aside for a stroll round the cathedral. 



308 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

The effect of the massy building, rising high against the 
clear sky, was one not easy to escape from. A great 
pile of fretwork, every projection — the buttresses, mould- 
ings, and statues edged and tipped with silver, in magical 
contrast with the deep dark shadows. And between 
each patch of gloom the shimmer of the windows, from 
which the eye glances upwards to the tall towers, that 
seem to be but unsubstantial tracery, where they spring 
highest towards the calm soft rays. The impression of 
the scene was heightened by music, for a party of 
singers in an upper room at one side of the Place were 
practising most exquisite choruses ; and the rich harmo- 
nies rolling from the open window charmed every ear 
and arrested every foot. Deep and earnest _was the 
murmur of satisfaction that broke from the listening 
throng as "the last sounds died away. Not till near 
midnight could I cease my pacing from side to side 
of the noble building, emerging at each turn from 
its broad, darksome shadow into the clear, serene moon- 
light. 

At half-past five the next morning I left Strasburg 
for Paris, a journey of three hundred and twelve miles. 
The country at first is generally level, along the valley 
of the Zorn. The landscape wears German features, 
with here and there a ruined tower in the distance; 
and the sight of ladder-sided wagons creeping along 
the high-road will remind you of the far-away moun- 
tains. Near Lutzelbourg the scenery becomes hilly, and 
tunnels and viaducts are frequent : the entrance to one 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 309 

is built to represent a feudal fortress. And now a 
series of charming landscapes appear, all too briefly, as 
the train dashes past, for we are crossing the undulating 
border of the Vosges. Presently we enter a tunnel 
nearly three thousand metres in length, having on our 
left the Marne and Rhine canal, and, while deep in 
the bosom of the mountain the railway descends, passing 
under the canal, which appears on the right when we 
emerge upon Lorraine. The charm of daylight is en- 
hanced by the beauty of the scenery. One delightful 
little valley appears after another, with the railway, the 
high-road, and canal winding through in endless curves. 
To halt in one of these verdant basins would be a treat ; 
but the train speeds on, plunging from time to time 
into the underground darkness. In this district France 
is indeed " La belle ;" and if there were more of such 
it would be a pleasanter country to travel in. Then we 
enter the valley of the Meurthe, and cross the river two 
or three times ; and a marked difference is perceptible 
in the vegetation. -Crops which were green at Stras- 
burg are here yellow, and breadths of vines impart an 
aspect of luxuriance. Nancy, the capital of what was 
once the kingdom of Lorraine, seated amidst pleasant 
gardens, looks cheerful as we approach. The station is 
close to the place formerly covered by the ponds in 
which Charles the Bold perished. A cross marks the 
spot where his body was picked up, disfigured by gore 
and mud, and half frozen. The chroniclers tell us that 
Rene II., on his return to the city after the battle, 



310 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

passed under a triumphal arch constructed of the bones 
of all the unclean animals which the citizens had eaten 
rather than yield. The annals of the Lorrainers, indeed, 
contain not a few examples of ardent patriotism. When 
Louis XIII. took the city, Jacques Callot refused all 
the magnificent offers that were made him for an en- 
graving of the monarch's success : " I would rather cut 
off my thumb," he answered, " than do anything con- 
trary to the honour of my prince and country." 

At Frouard we come upon the Moselle, and travel 
along its banks through a pleasant vale to Liverdun, a 
town built on a precipitous hill, which, with the stream 
below the old walls and a chateau in ruins above, make 
up a pretty picture. At Pagny we touch the Meuse, 
and have it now flowing on one side, now on the other, 
till beyond Commercy : then among hills again, some 
of which around Bar-le-Duc are covered with vines to 
their summit, while the Ornain washes their base. At 
Vitry-le-Francais the Marne appears in view, and ac- 
companies the route for miles. Then comes the cham- 
pagne district ; and at Epernay station, champagne 
wine is sold at ten sous the glass. Chateau Thierry is 
situate in a charming spot— an amphitheatre embowered 
with vines — and will, perhaps, remind you of La Fon- 
taine : and so we sped from one sunny landscape to 
another, till twilight dimmed the prospect; and at half- 
past nine in the evening we arrived in Paris. 

During the journey, I had again to discover that 
great politeness does not always involve ordinary civi- 



ON FOOT THROUGH TYEOL. 311 

lity; for every time that I alighted, some person took 
my seat, notwithstanding that my knapsack was left to 
indicate possession, and very reluctantly was it given 
up to me. 

I walked through the several departments of the 
Exposition, and could not fail to observe that in general 
effect, they fell below the Exhibition of 1851. The 
improvements which Paris had undergone since I saw 
it in 1853 were amazing; and looking at the new line 
of Quay, the new streets, and the new fagade of the 
Louvre, all so grand and magnificent, it seemed as if 
the whole city were growing into one great work of 
art. Luxurious, indeed, must be the style of living to 
correspond therewith ! 

On the last day of July I journeyed to Dieppe, and 
re-crossed the Channel. I had travelled more than two 
thousand miles, of which four hundred and twenty on 
foot, and at a cost, including everything, of less than 
fourteen pounds. The dark sun-brown has faded from 
my face, but not the sunlit scenery from my memory. 
To travel over the ground again in imagination, with 
pen in hand, recording impressions and experiences — to 
recall the outlines of glorious landscapes, the features of 
chance-companions, the tones of friendly voices, has be- 
guiled the hours of winter evenings, and renewed the 
charm of the first pleasure. How deep and abiding 
is that pleasure, is best known to those who have jour- 
neyed alone and on foot among the scenes where Nature 
mingles the lovely with the sublime. What Tyrol 



312 ON FOOT THROUGH TYROL. 

offers to the wanderer of these two elements, I have, at 
best, but imperfectly made known : let all go and see 
for themselves, 

" Who love the haunts of Nature, 
Love the sunshine of the meadow, 
Love the shadow of the forest, 
Love the wind among the branches, 
And the rain-shower, and the snow-storm, 
And the rushing of great rivers 
Thro' their palisades of pine-trees, 
And the thunder in the mountains." 



INDEX. 



Aach, river, 28 

Adda, river, 131 

Adlerberg, the, 59 

Agums, 108 

Aix-la-Chapelle, 10 

Alfenz, river, 56 

Alps, the, 94 

Ambuscade, an, 223 

Antwerp, 6 

Appenweier, 301 

Austria, 23 

Austrian functionaries, 26, 30,54, 

112, 120, 168, 181,247 
Avalanches, 40, 106, 111, 131, 

251 
Baden, 23 
Bar-le-Duc, 310 
Bathz, fort of, 5 
Bavaria, 28, 263; great plain of, 

19 
Bavarian Alps, 48 
Berg Isel, 225, 236 
Bieberwier, 255 
Biechelbach, 258 
Black Forest, 290 
Bludenz, 49 
Blumenegg castle, 49 
Bonndorf, 288 
Booksellers, 164, 170, 274 
Bormio, 132 
Brad, 109 

Brauglio, lake of, 128 
Bregenz, 25 
Bregenzerwald, 45; customs in, 

45 ; women's victory in, 46 ; 

legends of, 47 
Breitenwang, 261 
Brenner, road of the, 222, 231 
Brent a, river, 175 
Brewery, a, 11 



Bruchsal, 13 

Burgeis, 99 

Caldes, 163 

Caldonazzo, lake, 175 

Calzeranica, 175 

Carlsruhe, 299 

Cassalia, 148 

Christberg, the, 55, 58 

Churches, 31, 37, 169, 285, 293 

Cles, 164 

Clockmakers, 289 

Cologne, 10 

Concordat, the, 170 

Constance, council of, 195 

Constance, 278; lake of, 21, 27, 

278,288; steamboats and trade 

on, 23 
Costume, 52, 56, 63, 201, 281, 

289, 295 
Croviana, 161 
Cusiano, 160 
Dalaas, 58 
Danube, the, 19, 62, 232, 245, 

290 
Dieppe, 311 
Diessenhofen, 282 
Dornbirn, 31 
Edolo, 152 

Ehrenberger Klause, 258 
Eisack, river, 231 ; source of, 

232 
Engadine, the, 69 
Etsch, or Adige, river, 95, 167, 

177 
Etschland, 180 
Extatica, the, 189 
Feldkirch, 38 
Findelkind, Heinrich, 61 
Finstermiinz, 69, 89, 91 
Fire, a, 32; fire-engines, 35 



314 



INDEX. 



Flirsch, 66 

Floods, 97, 99, 101, 106, 110 

Flushing, 4 

Franzenshohe, 118 

Frastanz, 40 

Freiburg, 298 

Friedrich, Count of Tyrol, 50, 
72, 194, 239 

Friedrichshafen, 20 

Frodolfo, river, 136 

Fuccine, 160 

Fiissach, 25 

Fussen, 264; antiquities of, 273 

Gallopper, the, 3 

Gavia, pass of the, 143 

Gebhardsberg, the, 27 

Geisslingen, 17 

Geisslingerthal, 18 

Glurns, 105 

Gomagoi, 111 

Gossensass, 231 

Gotzis, 36 

Gradolo, 167 

Griinstein, the, 253 

Gutemberg, statue of, 305 

Hall, 236 

Harwich, 3 

Haspinger, Joachim, 224, 226 

Heilbronn, 14 

Heiterwang, 258 

Hofer, Andreas, 81 ; his birth- 
place, 203, 216; his parentage, 
203; personal qualities, 204 ; 
appointed Obercommandant, 
205 ; his weaknesses, 207 ; he 
disappears, 209 ; his hiding- 
place, 210; his arrest, 211; his 
execution, 213 ; his burial in 
the court church at Innsbruck, 
215; his family, 217; his tomb 
and statue, 242; relics of, 243 

Hohen Schwangau, 266; art and 
architecture in, 268; views at, 
270 

Hohenems, 32 ; castle, 35 

Hollenthal, 294 

Honesty, instances of, 37, 84, 157, 

218 
House inscriptions, 57, 58, 236, 

% 258, 285 

111, valley of the, 39, 50 
Immenstadt, 277' 



Inn, river, 244 

Inns, 52, 62, 66, 69, 87, 102, 113, 
149, 166, 174, 234, 238, 272 

Innsbruck, 236 ; court church, 
240; Ferdinandeum,243; mar- 
ket in, 245 

Innthal, 236 

Jauffen, the, 218, 221 

Jauffenburg, castle, 218 

Jews, 35 

Kaltern, 181 

Kannstadt, 16 

Kapuziner, the, 224, 226 

Kartasch, 181 

Kaunserthal, the, 87 

Kehl, 301 

Kempten, 276 

Kirschenkuchen, 18, 265 

Kleinhaus, Bartlma, blind sculp- 
tor, 93 

Klosterthal, 56 

Kurtinig, 181 

Laaser Spitz, 94 

Laatsch, 101 

Ladis, 86 

Land, price of, 42, 88, 106 

Landeck, 55, 69; miracle at, 71; 
the Tyrolese Griitli, 76 

Language, peculiarities of, 36, 40, 
47, 91, 105 

Lauterach, 30 

Lavis, 167 

Lech, river, 259; fall of, 264 

Leermoos, 255 

Lenzkirch, 291 

Levico, lake, 175 

Lichtenberg, 106 

Lindau, 24, 277 

Liverdun, 310 

Lombardy, 125 

Liitzelbourg, 308 

Madatsch Spitz, 112 

Male, 161 

Malines, 7 

Mais, heath of, 98, 102; church- 
yard at, 103; battle near, 104 

Manners, change of, 32 

Mannheim, 12 

Manufactures, 31, 67 

Margaret Maultasch, 195 

Marienberg, the, 251 

Marne, river, 310 



INDEX. 



315 



Martinswand, the, 247 

Matrey, 234 

Maximilian, tomb of, 241 

Mentz, 11 

Meran, 105, 194 

Meurthe, river, 309 

Meuse, river, 310 

Mezzano, 161 

Mezzo Lombardo, 165 

Mezzo Tedesco, 1 67 

Middelburg, 4 

Montavonerthal, 49 : customs of, 

51 
Monte Celva, 175 
Monteclassico, 1.61 
Moselle, river, 310 
Miinsterthal, 104 
Nancy, 309 
Nauders, 93 

Neckar, valley of the, 14, 16 
Nenzing, 41 
Nesselwang, 276 
Newspapers, 37, 39, 69, 137, 238, 

292, 307 
Nos, river, 163 

Ober Miemingen, 249 

Ober Vintschgau, 94 

Obsteig, 250 

Oetzthal, the, 94 

Oglio, river, 145 

Ortler Spitz, 94, 96, 110, 124 

Osanna, 160 

Paarde light-ship, 4 

Palmer stonian target, 185 

Papermoney, 54, 159,250,261,275 

Papistry, 54, 58, 64, 65, 95, 102, 
136, 233 

Paris, 311 

Passeyr, river, 200 

Passeyrthal, 196 

Passports, 2, 6, 26, 29, 127, 168, 
246, 298, 301 

Paznaunerthal, 67 

Peasant comedies, 233 

Peasants, 200, 250 

Pejo, 145 

Pellizzano, 160 

Pergine, 175 

Petnau, 248 

Petnen, 65 

Pezzo, 146 

Pfandlerberg, the, 25 



Piano, 161 

Pinzwang, 262 

Ponta di Legno, 145, 149, 151 

Pontlatzer bridge, 75 

Provisions, &c, prices of, 43, 246 

Kabbi, 145 

Rafts, 248 

Railways, 9, 11, 13, 16, 20, 25, 

158, 276 
Reichenau, 279 
Reute, 259 
Rhaetian Alps, 42 
Rhine, the, 11, 25, 279, 281, 301; 

fall of, 283 
Riffian, 196 

Rifle- shooting, 256, 258, 298 
Road-menders, 60, 94, 120, 122, 

226 
Roads, 89 ; of the Stelvio, 124; 
Tonale, 1 56 ; Brenner, 222 ; bad 
in Bavaria, 276 

Rohrschach, 23 

Rosanna, river, 62, 67 

St. Anton, 62 

St. Christof, 61 

St. Gallenkirch, 55 

St. Leonhard, 218 

St. Martin, 200 

St. Valentine, 95 

Saltaus, 197 

Salurn, 180 

Salutation, a, 74 

San Antonio, 136 

San Nicolo, 136 

Sanna, river, 68 

Santa Caterina, 137 

Santa Maria, 123 

Sauling, the, 270 

Saxon cleft, the, 225 

Schaffhausen, 283 

Scheldt, river, 4 

Schiller, birthplace of, 14; statue 
of, 16 

Schleiss, 101 

Schloss Ambras, 244 

Schloss Tyrol, 196 

Schonberg, 234 

Schruns, 52 

Siblingen, 285 

Silk-mills, 165 

Sill, river, 233 

Solstein, the, 248 



316 



INDEX. 



Speckbacher, 82, 224, 228, 244; 

Speckbacher and his little son, 

a ballad, 228 
Spinners, wages and resources 

of, 43 
Stanzerthal, the, 62, 67 
Stein, 281 
Steinach, 233 
Stelvio, the, 109 ; zigzags of, 116; 

galleries of, 123, 130 
Sterzing, 222, 230 
Stilfs, 110 
Strasburg, 302 
Stubayerthal, 235 
Stuben, 59 
Stiihlingen, 286 
Stuttgart, 14 
Suabian Alps, 27 
Sunday question, the, 7, 66, 69, 

93, 176, 250, 255 
Switzerland, 23 
Tannheimerthal, 261 
Tartsch, 104 
Telfs, 249 
Terlan, 191 
Thuringen, 41 
Tonale, pass of the, 154 
Tosens, 87 
Trafoi, 112 
Tramin, 181 
Trent, 167 ; council of, 167 : street 

life in, 172 
Trisanna, river, 67 
Tschurgant, the, 68 
Tuenno, 165 
Tyrol, 61, 154 ; valleys of, 79 ; hilly 

nature of, 181 ; constant breezes 

in, 181 ; baths and mineral 



springs in, 232; snow in, 252; 
cultivation in, 255 

Ulm, 18 

Upper Inn valley, 73 

Val Camonica, 152 

Val Furva, 135 

Val Gavia, 140 

Val Mazza, 146 

Val Non, 163 

Val Pedenos, 131 

Val Sole, 155 

Val Vermiglio, 155 

Vehicles, 59, 66, 88, 162, 165, 
178, 266, 282, 287 

Vermigliano, 156 

Vigolo, 176 

Vils, 262 

Vorarlberg, 23 

Vosges, the, 298, 309 

Walcheren, 4 

Wallgau, 39 

Walserthal, 41 

Walten, 220 

War, incidents of, 75; of Inde- 
pendence, 76; causes of, 77; 
missiles of, 80; successes of the 
Tyrolese, 82, 85 ; an ambus- 
cade, 86 

Wiesberg Castle, 67 

Wildbad,231 

Wiltau, 237, 244 

Wippthal, 234 

Wurmserloch, the, 129 

Wiirtemberg, 23 

Wuttach, river, 286 

Zeinis, the, 55, 67 

Zirl, 248 



THE END. 



C. WHITING, BEAUFORT HOUSE, STRAND. 



LBFe '06 



03 



